Here I sit,
Trapped in the doldrums
Of a sightless sea.
No wind blows the sails
In my dormant mind,
And my pen can spew no ink,
For no thaughts come forth
To carry it.
Beautiful faces
Cry for words and tears,
But are unanswered,
For in my head no muse can stir.
I feel wretched here.
No words can I weep to page,
For my tears are spent
On trivial matters.