My ink runs slow, my mind subdued
So many words, are misconstrued...

Somewhere-
buried deep...

The carnage opened up its flooded gate;
a bloodbath runs from taps and overflows...

The sound of my voice
is an odd thing to hear...

Such a nuisance; is this damn
writers block, like a race against...

A radiant luminosity drizzled
upon trees...

Upon my shoulders
either side...

She
is...

Raindrops revel and mingle within
A dispersion of sunbeams which...

Vows
And...

Ssssh...
I...

I long to smell the scent of pastures green
and hear the early song which breaks our day...