I stare at this screen every afternoon,
And pray for life to grip my fingers soon.

Cobwebs slowly settle into my brain,
The stillness driving away what was sane.
All I want is a cool breath
To wash away the death

That has taken my inspiration.
Just a gentle hint of sensation

Is all I crave.
But now I rave,
Numb to the skill
That use to fill

These words with great breadth.
Now I dig just to reach a depth

That resembles days of long ago.
And though I refuse to fully let go,
I’m caught in the snare of
A mind that can no longer love

The dreams I so greatly desire.
So instead of fanning that fire,

I always just slink off to bed
With thoughts still buzzing in my head.
I’ll lay awake for an eternity’s pass,
Slowly shrinking in mind and mass.

Sometime during the next day,
I’ll trudge back into the fray.

I guess it’s just easy to wash, rinse, and repeat
When one is caught within the stupor of defeat.