oh ancient muses help me write

Written by Nadine Oraby |
Published on:

Oh Ancient Muses help me write,

For I need it now more than anytime;

Bring me diction and help me rhyme

I need to let out all that’s inside

That’s been boiling for nights

And never tames but always wild

Look at my heart how it’s set on fire!

Who’d soothe it better than what I’ll write?


Pages will listen to me I know right

For they have always. And would never grind

Dearest of all therapists, my fingers that type,

Bring me rhythm and musical lines

I want to be redundant, I really don’t mind

I have a lot to unleash; I have so much to cry

It’s not a big deal if my words are not precise

For what in this world shall always stay concise?


I don’t want to set a limit for which I would certainly exceed

Because all I want and all I really need,

Is to shout out all that I hide

Beneath my deceptive smile

And my silence that’s grown tired.

But now, I would rather speak.


I haven’t been myself for a long time

I have become more furious and then too quiet

I have successive mental breakdowns every day and night

And clueless I am about everything that might

Be the reason why I am this not fine

I am not sure about the battles I fight

What do I want to reach?

What do I want to find?

There must be something inside of me

That’s struggling to be free

But they say, “What else could you possibly need?

You have everything close at hand, so stop that greed.”

I don’t ask for worldly prestige

My soul longs for more than what you compete

About which is essential for you and concrete

However, this is not what would give me peace


I don’t want anything that carries those meanings you define

I don’t believe in your words, I only believe in mine

This could be my problem that I always rationalize

Because maybe you are correct but I can’t agree with you most of the time

I just need to listen to my inner voice and not otherwise

I do insist for I know me best

For I know my weaknesses and all that lies behind

Let me trust my guts, I am no longer a child

Leave matters in my hand even if you think I am blind

It doesn’t matter if you can’t see although you have eyes

What matters is how you feel. What matters is insight

It doesn’t matter if your heart beats, but you don’t feel alive

What matters is everything that brings meaning to your life


See how I make sense now? But this happens every once in a while

Just some moments when I feel restrained and wise

I don’t think about trivialities and my thoughts are organized

And there are those moments when I am a mess

There is nothing petty, everything should make sense

And I object about what I once thought was best

There’s No way to organize my ideas so I lose my mind

I change into someone completely different yet I still like

I contradict myself a lot but this is the paradox that I admire


It is so difficult to bury those conflicts to keep your pride

In other words, it’s hard to conceal just for the sake of holding your head high

There’s no more repression than blames about your battle cries

And turning a means for emotional relief into a merciless crime

You can’t do it in front of anyone all you have to do is to smile

Until you are finally alone so you lock yourself into your room

And feel your tears running like an angry river bursting its banks left and right

Covering your face with tears and burning your chest for water could be fire

Putting your hand over your mouth so no one could hear you and ask you why

You don’t want any other pressure that makes you confined

You can’t explain you just want this moment to be gone, to be fine


It’s strange how you feel reborn after those few minutes of a long cry

Nothing hurts more or nothing bothers, even your attitude differs

You shine bright and your strength is set upright

Too full of JOY, too full of life

Too hopeful, too wise

Or perhaps you’ve just become too numb and too tired

All you want and all you require

Is to hear a comforting advice

Free of obligation and constant whys

All you need and all you require,

Is an ear to listen and a heart to sympathize

Without judging and giving guidelines

I appreciate your efforts; I know it’s stressing you alike

I really don’t mean it; my emotions sometimes get the best of me.

Thus, when you hear me cry

Don’t be worried, I promise you I’ll be fine.


Copyright © TravelDailyLife.com

Form of Poetry


Author: Nadine Oraby
I am Nadine, I am Egyptian and an English Literature TA at University. I am an English and Global Perspectives teacher at an International school. (IGCSE). I am a poet and writer. I write articles and scripts for YouTube channels.
My External Website (External Website Opens in New Window)


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