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When My Ink Runs Dry
When my ink runs dry, I'm sad and depressed,
For my heart knows no way to get what I'm feeling off my chest.
I'm lost in a sea of words unsaid, emotions suppressed,
Yearning for release, for a chance to finally rest.
Clouds of shadows in my mind, turmoil reigns supreme,
Whispers of unspoken truths haunt my every dream.
As I search in vain for a glimmer of light,
To pierce the darkness that clouds my sight.
Each word that escapes me feels like a betrayal,
A dagger to the heart, a cruel and bitter tale.
I long to paint my pain in hues of black and blue,
To share my anguish, my sorrow, my virtue true.
But the well of inspiration has run dry,
Leaving me stranded beneath an unforgiving sky.
I weep for the words that will never be written,
For the emotions left unresolved, the feelings bitten.
For when my ink runs dry, I am but a husk,
A shadow of myself, a relic, a dusk.
But I'll keep on searching, keep on writing, keep on yearning,
For the day when my words will flow, my spirit returning.
© Infinite Wanderer
For my heart knows no way to get what I'm feeling off my chest.
I'm lost in a sea of words unsaid, emotions suppressed,
Yearning for release, for a chance to finally rest.
Clouds of shadows in my mind, turmoil reigns supreme,
Whispers of unspoken truths haunt my every dream.
As I search in vain for a glimmer of light,
To pierce the darkness that clouds my sight.
Each word that escapes me feels like a betrayal,
A dagger to the heart, a cruel and bitter tale.
I long to paint my pain in hues of black and blue,
To share my anguish, my sorrow, my virtue true.
But the well of inspiration has run dry,
Leaving me stranded beneath an unforgiving sky.
I weep for the words that will never be written,
For the emotions left unresolved, the feelings bitten.
For when my ink runs dry, I am but a husk,
A shadow of myself, a relic, a dusk.
But I'll keep on searching, keep on writing, keep on yearning,
For the day when my words will flow, my spirit returning.
© Infinite Wanderer
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