Empty Thoughts

I lay this parchment down This ink well has become dry Thoughts no longer flow in my pen Creation has become frustration This muse now cast into iron A statute of my pasted thoughts Sitting in the muse museum Under lock and key The combination of creation Has flown away as a dove Yet has returned as an old crow Pecking at my minds thoughts Wondering has become a blank spot No tale will unfold onto parchment No ink with flow into literature All that is left are My Empty Thought’s