Empty

Nothing comes,
  no words, no phrases, no lyrics song or hum,
   no ink flow from the pen,
    no matter how hard I try, no matter when.
Even my fingers hurt
   slipping across the keys in random spurts,
    and the keyboard letters skip 
     coming more then than now, a tiny blip.
An emptiness lies pushed down deep inside unrecognized
    and in my alone-ness  this is where I hide
    waiting for inspiration,
     some inner revelation.
Once it was able to live and come alive
     long ago and once before now wishing to be revive
       but for the moment, long and tempting
        I am empty
The verse and prose once easily flowed
     but has lost its way to the unknown now achingly  slowed
      Patiently I search for cadence, rhythm, wording and rhyme
        hoping that it is only lost for a time.

losspoetrywordswritingrhyme

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