The bond between the Artist and the Muse,
Cannot be understood by an external being.

The things that pass between the two,
Changed into words, paint or music.

The Artist knows the Muse better,
Than the world really knows.

Yet the world doesn't always see the Muse,
Sometimes something else.

The Artist saves the beauty for themselves,
Shows people a different light.

Shadows here and there,
In different places.

Keeping the Muse still somewhat a secret,
A personal pleasure.

The Artist sees the Muse in a way unlike any other,
A whole new beauty that questions their sanity.

Inspiration, perspiration, vacation, creation,
Consequence, deliverance, chance, romance.

Strokes of a brush as strokes of a hand,
Melodies of joy and ache.

Words only the Artist truly understands,
And only the Muse should read.