A blank canvas,

Neither white nor black

Opaque and crystal clear.

A touch of flame, like the crimson sky

A pinch of hope, a dash of longing

For a muse, cloaked in oblivion

For a muse, filled with passion.

A touch of darkness, like the moonless night

A pinch of despair, a dash of despondent musing

For a muse, an eternal wait

For a muse, in silent pain.

The muse of my canvas

Real or imagined

In colour, or in simple black and white.

The muse of my notebook's blank pages

Like a crimson sky, like a moonless night

Like a joyous winter, like a despondent spring.

An endless story that never began

Verse written in memoriam

A forgotten muse, a fading poet

This is me, a woman who wishes to tell you a story.