Muse

A blank page stares at my face. Glowing white reflecting onto my glasses and make me want to scream. I dance then sit down at the desk once again. My muse was called upon, voila she comes. I write and listen to my own heartbeat.
The muse was hidden in a wooden box. She was alight with fear. She paced back in forth in my mind. Pleading with me to be set free. At last she is freed with the help of a healer who sees the binds and the noose.