To Muse Upon This Vexing Realm
I look upon this world, vexed and troubled by its state–disbelief and worry stirring within me. Merged in the whirling maelstrom of inspiration, these thoughts are shaped and formed into existence through reflection and creation. Inspiration is not an alien, otherworldly gift bestowed upon us by divine intervention. It is the voice of our suffering soul–the alchemy of what we see, feel and fear. A stage for our inner self, to shape and reveal our deepest truths–those we cannot ignore. A stage to come to terms with them, and set them free into the world that surrounds us. Letting others reflect and resonate upon these conclusions in turn.
Thus here stands the muse, crowned and shrouded, holding the spark to turn chaos into beauty. Her crown is adorned with fragments of failures past, her robes shelter the whispers of myriad, timeworn voices. Her eyes, dark yet glimmering with light, hold infinite possibilities—a mirror to the soul of all who dare to look.
What do you see in her eyes, and what will you create in return?
