Untitled poem

The muses screamed at me tonight,

And of you I screamed back.

At their behest, I wrote treatises

On the brutality of love

Because lifetime after lifetime,

No theme has served them better

And night after night

My fate has been the same.

So as is their nature they will hunt me

For there exists no love more brutal than yours,

And no poet more enamored of it than I.