Unrequiem

(the muse)
The orchestra sits idly on the stage.
The artist stares at blankness on the wall.
Notes wander off the canvas into cage,
to wait in abject hope, the artist's call.
The color of the music isn't real,
the color of the music's out of time.
These notes then paint the artist's funeral,
whose instrument has always been his rhyme.

More than just a prop upon the stage,
a painted dirge that hangs upon the wall.
Like music trapped within the artist's cage.
Like songs the orchestra cannot recall.
The notes upon the canvas seem surreal,
he knows not how the orchestra keeps time.
Why merrily they paint his funeral.
His instrument has always been his rhyme.

Then suddenly she's there upon the stage,
with swirling lilting brushstrokes on the wall.
releasing all his rhyme from rusted cage.
The sweeter note that heeds the artist's call,
as only she sees images too real.
The painted soundscape captures fleeting time
and splatters music on the funeral.
like instruments that only play in rhyme.

Sweet muse that stole the painting off the wall
and painted music freeing captured time,
thus cancelling the artist's funeral,
whose instrument must always be his rhyme.