I long to write,
But know not what to speak.
The will takes flight
But the wings of words get trapped in my cheek.

And now I strain
To force effulgent streams to drain
But only muster dull couplets which remain
Too plain.

Jadedness has invaded my brain.
Taken hostage my passion and pleasure,
Stolen my creative treasures.
Now I am traumatized. Will I ever be the same?