a muse.

My muse is gone, I need to find new ones. But where, and how? The previous left me with such scars and burdens that I now tread the hunting grounds with great caution.

Perhaps I am tired, perhaps I should take a rest. Perhaps I should take a break, refreshed and hunt again.

Damaged train being pushed back to the garage, to ride the rails another day.

Beauty is temporal, everyone changes. Youth is fleeting, everyone ages.
What matters more is the mind and heart, and comforting words whispered in the dark.
What matters most is the spirit and soul, with one that is Godly will you be whole.