My brain is uninhabited by rhyme.
No words swirl 'round, no thesis comes to mind.
How can I write a masterpiece sublime?
How can I do this work I've been assigned?

You've formed one verse. Continue at this task.
Don't think. Just write upon the barren page.
Perhaps some Truth, in whisking off its mask,
will encourage the struggling pen to engage.

Epiphany! That's what I'm yearning for,
emerging from this verse and scribbled here,
an extraordinary insight, nothing more.
And yet, the chance deserts me fast, I fear.

I've filled up all the lines in front of me,
*But look! The sonnet is fait accomplis!