Wee Little GrasshopperGoodbye to the Muse
As the broken muse left the boy in emptiness, the cocoon around him twisted shut, as did the desperate desire for painting blue. He surrendered her to dust. Gone into endless winter, he withered into poisoned yearning. Shrouded in a quiet scream without the blooming morning or the engulfing warmth of imaginary, unfilled melodies. The wondering boy and his desire for simple beauty closed the door. Silently.
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