Best Efforts

Dealing with the scattered thoughts
At a wretched loss for words
An idea forms, then it rots
Its carcass picked by birds

So much effort in each line
Letters penned in blood
But it helps to pour the wine
Before they turn to mud

My muse guides my hand with all due grace
Firming up a fragile write
She tells me that it's no disgrace
If not every word takes flight.