In the dim-lit halls of my mind,
Where once inspiration brightly shined,
Now shadows dance, elusive, unseen,
The muse's touch, a distant dream.
Words once flowed like a gentle stream,
But now they falter, lost in the scheme
Of endless blank pages, devoid of light,
Where once there danced ideas so bright.
The inkwell runs dry, the quill grows still,
As the silence deepens, an eerie chill.
No subjects roam, no tales to tell,
Just echoes of a fading spell.
Yet still, I strive to breathe life anew,
To resurrect the passion, to pursue
The elusive muse, though she may flee,
For in the depths, poetry will always be.
So I'll wander through the barren land,
In search of a spark, a guiding hand,
To reignite the fire, to break the chains,
And write once more of joy and pains.
Though the road be long, and the journey rough,
I'll carry on, despite the hush,
For within me lies the heart of art,
And poetry's dying passion, I'll restart.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of Heart: A Collection of Poems
Poetry"Whispers of the Heart: A Collection of Poems" captures the essence of human emotions through verse. Delving into the depths of love, loss, hope, and resilience, this collection offers a journey through the intricacies of the heart.
