Writer's Block

Drops of garbled nonsense leak from my pen to the thirsty paper... A futile effort to create and contrast... To sketch out my deepest thoughts and dreams... To mold just the right words into a visual landscape of my soul... My mind is blank and weary... Like stagnate water on a hot, September day... No breeze... Just stillness... Just a calm, stingy tranquility that leaves me no inspiration... I am seeking a humble muse. A windy day forcing the water to rage... A flood of utter creativity to break this dull dam...