I've broken through
The wall that has surrounded
me.
Not a word
has been written by my hand
since a time so far forgotten.
Overgrowth from disuse
has cluttered my focus,
drying up my ambition
although no sun has shone upon it.
My thoughts became cracked,
dusty with age,
and the webs
became so thick
I couldn't cut them with fire.
But like a maze,
I found a path through.
There were dead ends,
and tricks,
and traps along the way,
but I made
the correct turns to get back
to that place
like a mouse to cheese.
I've found my pen,
and through the ink,
my words will find the world.