Poetically uninspired
With no means of inspiration
Leaves one exasperated.

No way to perform
To let loose those words
Tightly sealed within the deeps of one's own hell – the mind.

Without inspiration
Comes no exhalation
Of the bubbling fumes that was bound to ruin
All frames of sort that one could ever find.

Wait...
was that the last breath?

(c.c)