Letters I'll Never Send To Him. [Poetry]

The Poet and The Third Muse.

A conversation with The Muse Clio.

Herophile:
I need inspiration for a tale to retell.
I've exhausted my trauma   
I'm dry as inkwell.

Clio:
Fear not dear clientele
I'm your eternal source of drama
Your block I'm here to dispel.

Clio:
The beauty of the sun and it's golden fury.

Herophile:
Oh wise Clio.
It's been done so much its ordinary
If had anything to say it would be sparse.

Clio:
Ok then.
The silver moon and her enduring cycle.

Herophile:
Great suggestion, you funny comedienne
To write I fear others genius I must recycle.

Clio:
Mortal, you're not making this easy
Rainbows and Aurora bourealis.

Herophile:
I'm going for reinvention not chessy
Please Great muse, do not be callous.

Clio:
I'm exhausted dark writer
Spring and verdant foliage.

Herophile:
For this I'll atone with bulls for your altar
But Wreathed One, That's average.

Clio:
I have no altar, mocking mortal.
Something oracular or mythical.

Herophile:
I'm truly sorry about your altar.
Mythical?
For you that's something typical.

Clio:
A piece good and moral
Death and Decay?

Herophile:
Death is amoral.
To write decay would be cliché.

Clio:
Elegies and Adieus...

Herophile:
Great! That'll trigger such melancholic blues.