Where to find the words?
When all the wells
Have run dry,
My inspiration
No longer
Blooming
Out of the dark corners
Of my addled mind,
The fountains
That yielded
All my sentiments,
Have translated
Into muted syllables
That no longer flow,
As if my need
Has been quelled,
Yet I am more parched
Than desert dunes,
Cold barren wastelands;
And there is no mirage
To even hold me over
Until the next rainfall...

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