Falling Thoughts
When this pen of mine runs dry…
Empty thoughts fall and die…
No one there to catch this descend …
Even the paper is not my friend…
Inspiration hides behind self-built walls…
Most words struggle to even crawl…
A voice on paper with no sound…
Cries to be heard inside a slow drown…
Eyes now close into a deep sleep…
Off to a place where thoughts shall seep…
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