My Poetic Mission

My inspiration is gone, I've used it all up.
It once runneth over now empty is my cup.

Oh dear me...my pen won't go.
I've tried and tried, the ink won't flow.

How do I go on? My pages are blank.
Is that you God, playing a cruel prank?

No where to go, nothing to write.
No shelter from the cold, dark night.

I'm lost, bewildered, I've never been here.
Un-poetic me...I'm captured by fear.

Poetry once flowed through my veins.
Now I'm bound within these chains.

I'll fight to the death to be free.
Writer's block won't imprison me.

I'll rise above, taking what's mine.
I'll show this world that I can rhyme.

I'll never fade with the dying light.
Proving to all that I can write.

I'll be all the poet, that I can be.
That's my mission, as you'll see.

*Just some random thoughts from an uninspired poet :)