I don't want to wander through life
holding onto a past that never was,
ghosts amidst the shadows, flickers of light,
hopes and fears, whispered regrets,
only to wake up one dark day
and realize it was all wasted.
The balance between hope and dream,
myth and reality is tenuous.
The muse I never asked for, unwanted,
lives on and on, silently scratching in my mind,
playfully stoking the fires of my creativity.
The one glorious genius constant
in my inconsistent existence.
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