Blame the Muse

 “… the dark folk who live in souls
Of passionate men, like bats in the dead trees;” —W.B. Yeats

705px-The_Scream

The Scream, 1893 by Edvard Munch

incessant goading fills our heads
to do the dreaded things we fear
passion riles the weakest hosts
and blames the muse

but muses simply plant the seed
it’s passion’s fire that drives men mad
surrendering to wild extremes
renders us razed

yet middling is not the course
that moves faint hearts, nor feeds the soul
embracing darkness, shadow, light
each bearing virtues of their own
our angst assuaged

~kat

For Jane Dougherty’s Yeat’s Challenge Day 2 based on the verse above and using the “new” form suggesting a metered trio of stanzas with the following syllable count: 8 8 8 4 8 8 8 4 8 8 8 8 4 .

 


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