This foggy mind,
where the mist won't cease
Opaque clouds drift
to my thoughts - the breeze
intentions unclear,
abandoned with slight fear
passions muted -
purpose is queer.
White page lies blank
Black ink is drained
the brain's an asylum
neither insane nor sane
Is this the Kingdom of Boredom?
for all empty souls & crumpled blanks
Please reach thy vibrant hands into the dump
with the glimmers of galaxies in your eyes
& drag me out of this living slump.