Color drains away, off the palette, out of life
No more form sits in waiting to be shaped by me
Inspiration has fled, like marigolds flee winter
Curling up and shriveling long before icy breath
Dealing death comes sweeping in to purge us all
It was uncounted life times ago that there was
Inspiration, perspiration, laughter, dancing
Darkness has fallen upon my canvas, gnawed at
Talent like a filthy rat in heat, to feed young
Yet youth does not harbinge mortality, my love
Color Drains Away
Loss of muse is less than amusing