Black Birds -- Diminished Hexaverse
If I could but find
Blessed muse again,
I know I could write
A lovely poem, then
My soul, free ascend.
But now I’m locked,
Filled with stale thoughts,
Rife with old fears;
Bitter, cold tears.
How can I
Begin, try
To get by.
No words;
Black birds
Fly.
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