i grasp at a melting vision
it slips into the darkness again.
and the self same darkness
and forces itself into my being.
it blocks out lingering feelings
it blocks out emotions.
my head almost swirls with pain
till i black out..
consciousness dawns slowly
like light filtering in through creaks
and the torture is extended...
like drops of water hitting you
one at a time.
there the half written poem lies
on a yellowed parchment.
i've begun another enterprise
but i am too weak to sustain...
well known words and images
elude me again.
can't i write anymore?
is this where i put a stop to creativity?
i recede into a dark corner
watching shapes and figures
blur before my eyes
blending into one disfigured mass.
i hold on to slippery hope still...
waiting for someone to fulfill my poem.