Where Visions Drown (Poem)

The ink is dry upon the page

The quiet sits like frozen lead

The brilliant sparks that used to flare

Lie cold and hollow in my head.

A cursor pulses on the screen

A relentless, steady, empty beat

The clever lines I tried to weave

Fall limp and useless at my feet.

Scrape the canvas down to white

Unstring the wire from the wood

There is no mystery to mourn

I gave it everything I could.

An engine idling in place

A spark that failed to catch the flame

Until the passion thins to smoke

And leaves behind an empty frame.

I am not defeated by the work

No bitter critic struck me down

Just silent static in the mind

A quiet well where visions drown.