How long can an artist live without creating art
How long until the 'sublime and beautiful' from his soul falls apart
How long until a hiatus or a break turns into an exit
Haven't created anything for long, haven't stressed it
Became complacent, thought inside me my art is nested
But what if one day I wake up and found it wasn't there
What if one day I just am unable to write when I come over here
Or there, or anywhere?
What if one day my dormant talent finally disappears
And I'm only left with old laurels to show to my peers
But I don't even show them to my peers, they are only for me
So once I lose my artistry, will I be able to see
Eye to eye with myself, knowing my skill is now asleep
And reviving the old flame would become too big a leap
Such as these are the many thoughts I have when I try to sleep.
ESTÁS LEYENDO
Eternal Pain
PoesíaAlone in the night, nowhere to hide Just me and my trash thoughts to write