A troubled muse has brought me here
To a place where we can be alone.
She claims I've been unfaithful to her,
That I've been dabbling in unholy arts
And putting pen to paper on a lark
Despite the fact that I've been with her all along.
She weeps and I coo softly into her ear
Some lascivious verse
From off the top of my head.
Then, her ineluctable smile appears
And kisses me and takes me to her bed
Where all night long I sing a most inspired song
That gives birth to joy in the hearts of the dead.
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