I could pretend no one else exists out here. No damned people. Just the stars…and the moon. Always the moon. Out here, she fills the sky, my thoughts. In there…it’s a different problem entirely. I sound so damned pathetic. This is why I don’t write. I look at what I write and it looks so…I hate thinking about this. All of it. Damned mage. At least she doesn’t want to read this crap. She’d be disappointed anyway, no way in fel, there’s a reason I burn half the entries.
For so long, the only stable thing, the only one who has ever cared is the moon. Just a, what am I? Something that doesn’t deserve that, not anymore. I was dragged away, down here, and here I’ll stay, beating back the shadows. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Give me a good mark and I’m game. Send a flaky mage on me and she has me writing poetry. What’s her deal anyway? Damned job. Not happy enough I’m writing this crap.
Silences presses my ears
As the moonglow beckons
But I cannot answer
Violence presses my dreams
At moonglow’s dimming
At first cry’s answer
No fence presses my fate
While moonglow persists
I will not answer
Soul rent, presses my mind
Scream in the darkness
No one answers
I’m no good at this shit. Can’t wait ’til this job’s over.
Muse Sings 
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