When Words Wear Thin

Inspiration wanes
It feels like my pen’s run dry
On a dark, cold night

What recourse is there
When your wellspring has dried up
Head aches and mind breaks

The Storyteller
Who finds he’s a story short
Detractors smirking

When your mind fails you
When delirium sets in
When is stone lies turned

I fight through the lull
This becalmed ship frees itself
I imagine wind

Imagination
So potent and versatile
Subverting the real

This is not for me
I must always remember
Whose life is at stake

So I journey forth
Same book, but a new chapter
To dream of my muse

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~ by songoflove on March 20, 2017.

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