A/N: I know I've been absent for quite a while. But, I'm finally on break and feeling like I can return to my writing again. This is a bit rough, but regardless, it feels good.
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My pen has forgotten the touch of paper,
My tongue rude and absent words,
My mind has lost the whimsical voices,
It had, long ago, once birthed.
I sit by sunlight,
Wait by moonlight,
For the strike of a thought.
But these past months
Escape the lines
With which such tales
Would rest upon.
I think a lot,
I swear I do,
Of returning to beloved pages.
Blank and awaiting,
The loving touch
Of an author in the making.
Heavy happenings press my mind,
Dark and dreary they be.
Survival overcomes fantasy.
Nose to the grind,
I push and pull,
Forsaking my muse, my therapy.
Fear not,
For I return!
Never shall I truly leave,
The pages which shall
Entomb me.
