Out in the middle of nowhere
left for ruin
for pain
for nought

Now to face the consequences
all alone
afraid
bereft

Forced to face bad decisions
loss of hope
loss of faith
forlorn

Have you ever noticed how moody we writers can be?
Notice I said we because I am including
myself in this observation
It is like our creative juices are at constant play
even when our body is at rest and this may cause some of it.
Other times, like right now I am trying to work on a poem
for my sisters as a surprise Christmas present.  
It is like the more important the subject of the poem
is to me the less I can get it ~ just right
I know that the words will come to me when they are ready
but the words never come to me when I am ready.
Another thing that gets me moody is when life takes me away
and I cannot seem to find the time to write.
I can feel my hand just a twitching and my mind just a racing.
I need to get the thoughts out of my head but cannot.
We Wizards of the Word get moody
When we cannot create our masterpiece.
Houston we have a problem and step one is admitting to it :)

~~
This is called a bed, a bier
All the faces who have
gathered in the windows have blurred
The lens is worn around
Still, I am going away from
the bottomless star

They have moved away from road
Sounds become smaller sighs
Anymore I do not see,
The yesterday's busiest bird
Alone in the silence,
The haze pine forest standing  

It is a pleasure to wait for the bird
while close the eyes,
Springtime in the gray forest
My hand in her hand,
In the late afternoon's soft light
Strong wet black hair smell

All that is going
To move away from my sight
Pull together in the dark
The childhood, her hand, the drunk smell
Covered with a black screen

I'm going up from the CoT
Are mixed in the air,
moving clouds, rafting
unfamiliar tunes of fair, anywhere
At Times, Unseasoned, without any reason!
~~
@Musfiq us shaleheen

I don't know why
it just happens
then I find myself
hiding
wanting to hide my face
turn away
pretend it isn't real

I just let it be
knowing inside
or somewhere
it isn't right
it was never right
yet the pain is there

I don't know why
so many suffer
without speaking
but go on hiding
their shame, their scars
their pain

I know it well
as I've been there
scarred
inside and out
never again
to be whole

Yes
the pain is real
it happens every day
but to let it
is not by choice

Sometimes our minds wander
into another world
lighter or darker
and we tend to roam
farther away from our destination

The problem is it happens
too often for awhile
and our hearts
are led into other worlds
all too different
farther away from whence we came

Thus, we forget
our destination
was a little closer
than we thought
by the time
we finally remembered

The good thing is
we got back on track
and began to follow
the right path
and entered new places
with unending smiles