Three AM Muse by Kerry E . B . Black
It blew through countless windows , Tapped skulls to wake dulled minds . Creativity wiggled , an insistent muse , Heedless of the witching hour . “ Create ” it urged Infiltrating dreams Until the sleeper stretched , Yawned , bleary-eyed And bemused . Some pushed the whisper aside Sure they would recall The grand ideas when Dawn stained the sky , Only to find it fled With the dismissal . Others rose from their beds To put pen to paper , Brush to stretched canvas . Melodies swirled and circled . One followed the muse Down a dark path using knives and chloroform To craft a darker work ,
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