Thy quill hath become somewhat weary
Writing poems daily without any respite
On the bullet casing one shall now bite
A break away to restore thy energy
Vigor hath drained to a very low point
Penning poetic lines so exhausting
Time out is required for recharging
Thy quill's black ink doth not want to anoint
Within the next day or so I'll return
Feeling more refreshed and full of vim
Thy cannot keep pouring words on a page
Of late the candle hath done a high burn
Thy powers to write are becoming dim
To have a session of rest is most sage