Modern Muse
MODERN MUSE.
When the poet and the artist full of fright
From directors of galleries from dealers of might
From TV pundits merchants of media & such blight
Settling splendidly on their thrones in dizzying heights.
The artist prayed to his muse to descend from her paradise
And save his soul from dark hells, let there be light.
When the bard as ever hungry for public acclaim
Bowed to his muse for crumbs of some nether gain
With dishevelled hair and reeking of potent drink
With rouge on her lips and great fire in her limbs
A smile on her crooked face and a stagger in her pace
The muse now descends majestically with her celestial grace.
Durlabh Singh
