Muse

Infinitely I long for
Someone to write a song for.
Dismally I claim to be
Content with being lonely.
Pitifully I fake my glee
While my sorrow wallows slyly.
Regretfully the truth is:
I think I have lost my bliss.
But how, I pray, does one retrieve,
Thoughts they now cannot believe?
How can I regain my joy,
If my heart is not employed?
How can I avoid the noose
If I've lost my only muse?