A relief in a way
blank like a sheet of paper, nay not paper, a tree uncut
not yet even paper
gasping tendrils cannot form, cannot be voiced
housing no muse, reaching out to smoke
a relief in a way
also a curse
when naught brings life but words
what is it my mind is seeking
holding onto endless vague emotions
they wave tauntingly across a vast distance
sneering, as I chase them across an arid desert
through treacherous mountain passes
always a few dances ahead, mocking me in my limbo
where is my emotion
I feel it tearing me to pieces
at what is it directed