Muse

Bring out your knives, sharpened and gleaming
Your pillars of love, bright and beaming
Don't compare to the dusk, that descends on her brow
And all your words are dust, ink dry and cracking now.

A million candles that light up the sky,
Outdone by the dazzling dawn in her eye.
And all those melodies you laid at her feet,
Long since played out their last lonely beat.

And so your dreams all come to this,
Written caresses your hands didn't risk.
So I don't really care if its all been a lie
But O, how I wish your muse had been I