The Curse

Darkness hovers in the mind Flashes of vague thoughts haunt your day and night So many ideas in the form of dark shapeless shadows Trying so hard to make sense of them only to fail With every step you make towards them they fade deeper into darkness No sign of light, no sign of joy yet you keep the faith Your muse, your inspiration all lost in the passage of time You wonder what went wrong; you wonder how you got here Every passing minute haunts you as they turn into days, weeks Of great thoughts but meaningless words on beautiful paper Paper, ink and a your vision now mortal enemies Shut out from the only world you know Unable to speak yet you have a message to be heard Sight of ink, paper and the night lamp Now constant reminders of a voiceless poet Once great, now no more as they speak of you in past tense This is the curse of a poet