My shoes are empty, no rhythm or beat to fill the soles.
My energy tank is drained and dry,
And my crutch, my sugar, is attempting to consume me whole.
I push for something, try and try,
But designs escape me everytime.
As time reveals that I am tired, and tested by my own desire.
I beg for sleep to make me whole,
And yet I must and must persist.
To fight the battles new and old, and find my way throughout the mist.
I persevere and do persist to pull my art out of nothingness.
Until the sun on this day sets,
I will create until I rest.
The title is kinda ironic. Because it's often needed. :D