Gone to the clouds is my skill of the pen
Flown to the sky are my words, gift given
To me the day in which I opened my eyes
Which now, shut tight, threatens to die
Nothing is nothing, but so is my mind
Empty, blank, with nothing to find
The search for my soul hurt and dug in
As my heart gave up wandering as it gave in
Urges and desires for freeing creative ink
Have gone up missing, the weakest link
Old skills flourish in this moment of flare
But to pen a great novel, I do not dare
The courage to try has not gone at all
Ink is still flowing, despite my fall
Again and again, my gift will prevail
One day I will share a magnificent tale
December 2, 2014
ESTÁS LEYENDO
An Attempt To Overcome
PoesíaA collection of poems written through various stages of depression. Some are cliché, some seem irrelevant, and others are important. I hope it is interesting.
