I've lost the burning in my fingers,
The spark within my soul,
The light in my eyes that lingers,
When a fire ravishes me whole.

My words have been driven away,
Replaced by derivatives and sines,
My erratic thinking and impulsive way,
Ridiculed by logical lines.

Slowly, my mind has been eroded,
Pounded, molded and reformed,
Until my eyes are totally blanked,
And my essence is forever lost.

For now my pen no longer moves,
In hurried chicken scratch,
But rather, in uniformed loops,
Making a perfect black stitch.