Musings on the Muse

From whence comes a sense of entitlement?
And then is it sin and a detriment?
Or well-earned for hell could not hinder me
In questing the best job that I dare be

A daring dance I dare to tread
My ego stretched within my head
Through pains I quell it there instead
But never must I leave it dead
For otherwise this life I led
Is nothing more than constant dread
As muse's gold, treated as lead
Is stolen from beneath my bed

Just compensation is my right
For endless toils all through the night
And though my work brings me delight
Its words were meant for others' sight
And yet they see it as a slight
If I should be my own true knight
And I they curse and damn and blight
And say I seek to start a fight

From whence comes a sense of entitlement?
And then is it sin and a detriment?
Or well-earned for hell could not hinder me
And all of their gall is just jealousy