Empty,
vacant notions
evicted, the land lord
dismissed them. The tenant is left standing still as though the world has been pludged into voids of deep mists.
In an abyss of shadows no glimpse in sight for thoughts which might rescue the notionless mind
As the rope begins
to look friendly wishing
in the ground he may be burried..
a voice breaks
bonds and ideas are wildfire, a disease
corrupting the mind with tranquility erupting the heart with serenity
So there I was sitting still and without any Ideas and I thought at some point in time poets must feel lost and without words but hope is always there so I dedicate this to those still struggling to find the right words