Writing Slump

Blank minded empty space, no crickets, no sound
Distant, stretchy road, no trees, thick fogs,
Muted barks echoed from near by dogs
Gray skies no rain a timeless chain a windless storm no sign of calm, eyes closed
Searching for words have misplaced them, “when did I last use them?” ‘I think it was in a sentence…”
I think it got washed away with the flow
That explains why its moving slow
Sleepless dreams colourless scene
….no ideas conceptualize no images materialize frustration my mind having your own sabbath?
Blank minded empty space… Wait am I really in a slump? well good treasure can be found at the dump

The UnSpoken Arts

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