Literature
To Mnemosyne
Silent, waiting so many years,
for a nod, the slightest provocation.
Now relentless, restless, pushing
through all reason and time
to be heard.
Silent so long, built up,
contained.
Most would have withered,
but Your sense of revenge is keener than that.
i am your instrument,
You, my will.
So i pay for all those nights,
cloistered,
Your willing voice and slave.