Writers-block will be the death of us all
Breaking Out
The light fades slowly, to the depths of darkness
As the sun wavers, it melts into the night sky
Daring dreams of hope plague my mind;
I sit here wondering, pondering why
My words describe my feelings so true,
Pouring my heart through this pen it bleeds,
And as the time arrives I become weary;
Rhymes scream out, can anyone hear me?
A stream of unified consciousness,
Prompting daggers, my splatters paper
Ideas of ambition break free, gone, so fleeting,
Eyes filled with sadness as thoughts turn to vapour
It was once so enjoyable, now conflict arises,
In every syllable I struggle to breath life too,
Confidence significant in absence, so dreadful;
The strain appears so obvious, so painful and undue
Recognition equates to merely infinite hope,
A dream yet a nightmare, I am still to wake from;
Tragic conflict ends in mere moments from now,
Letting go, my words I eradicate, they are gone
© Ben Johnson 2011.
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