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Life's Offense and the Muses as Escape

I sit with pen in hand this downcast morn;
and search the Muses for more enraptured songs;
songs of great cheer, of memories heartworn,
to banish the ghosts of inflicted wrongs;

before, no songs could quell the ruthless onslaughts
of life; so abject, I was comfortless;
unsaved but for them hovering in my thoughts,
wooing me with lines that eased the hopelessness.

So, wherefore am I life's steel lightning rod;
a man, and lone soul, whose quiet defense
the world longs to disrupt—invade? (So awed
am I, that viciously it takes offense.)

From such place, the Muses grant their rare escape;
where, in peace, poets can safely take their shape.

Sonnet by Ngoc Nguyen