Writers Block

I lie her with nothing to say. My mind is empy. My bed gives no comfort. I lack the energy to dream. The poetry cannot flow. My heart is dry Where words dwelt confusion is now enthroned. I know the words will come, but time finds no ground. I hold on for imagination to take flight. But blocked is my mind. Surely the ravenous emptiness will give way to fruit. What sense is there with no words? I am all a blank. Does not the muse aspire to grant an inspired kiss? Art seems a foreign dialect. I rip away one idea after another. That was no good. Articulate words articulate. Do not squander your rhetoric meanings. Maybe the dawns light will hold virtue. Till then the stars glimmer in thy dreams.