Oh itís no use, Iíve lost my muse
I cannot write a single verse
Itís like Iíve put on different shoes
And now Iím walking in reverse
I canít compose or keep composure
It seems that soon Iíll simply burst
Iíve lost the grip on my emotion
How must I write if I am cursed?
Skyfyre, Alwye, RainbowGirl
Inside your verses I can taste
The words that spun me in a whirl
Before the muse Iíve lost, misplaced!
What beast has ripped my heart apart?
Denise, Nan, Ruthó itís a disgrace!
Give back my muse and have a heart!
Return the passion to itís place!
"I will not whole die, my soul in sacred lyre,
will outlive my dust and will escape decay,
And in the moonlit sphere, my glory will not tire
As long as poets still remain" A. Pushkin