Vision Blurred from mind murmurs, I pause.
Weak so very weak, ideas -the main cause-
It starts with thought, Mine? Maybe. Theirs? Viable.
Perchance a sight sparks sources, pliable
To my forgotten fountain of words and youth.
Whatever kerosene lights false truths,
Matters not, the elicit creation
Itself boils thick blood, a gyration
Of self-exploration and daydreams.
Envision that my dear, a lonely sunbeam:
It is there! Muses dancing in the field,
Undulating excitement revealed!

The blank page beckons, the clever pen begs
To strut. Alas! Its form flutters, the dregs
Remain to tease&taun;; the restless soul
My mind murmurs, trapped, weakened: the sinkhole