The poet chides his Muse for abandoning him, demanding she return and justify her long silence.
The archaic second-person singular reinforces the Muse's apartness and the poet's supplication. Her forgetting is a betrayal of duty.
The Muse, traditionally a source of inspiration, is accused of willful neglect and abandonment. By Sonnet 100, we enter the Muse-address sequence (100-106) where the beloved is momentarily displaced by the poet's anxiety about his own creative capacity. The Muse's silence suggests either that the poet has nothing worth inspiring, or that he has somehow displeased her. This anxiety about worthiness and judgment reflects the entire sequence's recurring theme.
The sonnet demonstrates a crucial paradox: by complaining about the Muse's absence, the poet reveals her presence. Every well-crafted line is proof that inspiration hasn't entirely fled. Shakespeare demonstrates awareness of this paradox—the sonnet is simultaneously complaint and evidence of continuing creative power. This reflexive quality complicates the complaint's emotional sincerity, suggesting the poet both does and doesn't believe his own words.
Like a writer texting their therapist, 'Why have you been ignoring me?'—while simultaneously demonstrating they can write coherently. The complaint proves the thing complained about isn't entirely true, yet the emotional reality of disconnection remains valid.