A writer never sleeps at night:
his dreams are all revisions –
when dark descends he’s lost within
a hopeless indecision.
In love or rage the empty page
remains a voiceless vision –
The words won’t come until he’s sprung
from inspiration’s prison!
Frustrated sage, the pen is raised…
but nothing is forthcoming;
the ink he spills refuses still
to transcend his shortcomings.
A prayer is tossed, but still he’s lost
and soon the sun will rise –
He tries again, then drops his pen,
and finally shuts his eyes!
In full stagnation, his imagination
has given up the quest –
He soon resigns to fate’s design
and lays down for a rest.
In spent repose, with both eyes closed
the taunting muse descends,
And whispers clear within his ear
“Get up! Begin again!”
And so it goes, the author knows:
it never gets much lighter!
The battle waged to fill a page
consumes most every writer.
The Winter Bites My Bones 
Well done! Loved the rhyme and rhythm and all the while the thought continued as a single thread.
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I find myself making comments often about how much we, as writers, write about writing. Normally, I relate to the pieces (obviously) but am rarely impressed by them (there are, afterall – so many to choose from!). This one is brilliant, though. I really loved it. Your diction and rhythm were flawless – I did not feel that any of the lines were contorted to fit into your structure, which is an accomplishment with a piece in as strict a form as this one. Your first line was my favorite – dreams are all revisions indeed!
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Pingback: I’m Just A Lost Poet | ricklee's poetry plus
Thank you for including a link to my blog material on your blog. All the exposure one can get helps. I enjoyed reading your blog and will be returning to see what’s new.
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