It is said that you attract what you think, maybe that's why poets rhyme their melancholy, and still wish for a miracle. It isn't that rare, just be a little more observant and you'll be surprised at what you find. Hope and happiness create beautiful symphonies together, but if you let the burden of expectations in, it's certain to cause discordance.
In between the cold droplets of August and humid sky of October, there's a soft wind; hidden in the rusty pages of September, that would take away your sorrows, pour them down the parched lane of a dry summer and make you hopeful once again. Months are not just pages on a calender, they're much more; feelings indescribable. Each one holds a certain emotion, that floods in the middle of emptiness and fades away when you get used to it. As years pass by, you keep running in circles, waiting for the one that rhymes with your soul and holds your abode.
Between the pages of my favourite novel, there's a chocolate wrapper, pressed and preserved; a fossil of forever, that now lies in a coffin of words. I sometimes wish to crumble it between my fingers and throw it away. But I can't, for it's a souvenir of a miracle, one that led to beautiful memories. Memories are bittersweet, either they build you or break you; into fragments not worth stitching back. Scattered stars are what add beauty to the sky, anyways, so you can be a mess and still shine.
According to oxford dictionary, a muse is a person or personified force who is the source of inspiration for a creative artist. In Greek and Roman mythology, muse is each of nine goddesses, the daughters of Zeus and Mnemosyne, who preside over the arts and sciences.
Write a poem, quote or story using the word muse.
Use the hashtag #muse in the caption of your post.