My head goes blank, words lost in my head
I struggle to pen down words, but only filled with webs of empty spirals
In my head, I try to recollect words
But the puzzle remain missing, void without form
Inks and pen litters the floor
Waiting for the penman to embrace their grace
But there he lie, emptied of his craft
Waiting, hoping, and longing for a touch
Image generated using Gemini AI
Even the penman has forsaken his ink
Betrayed by the very words of his mastery
Lost in a spiral of blocks, everything makes no sense
Only his Grace would pave way for him
While his flesh weary and his bones frail
He finds a meaning, something to show him a way
A passion and a craft, a way out of his spiral
Until the words he once craft grace his pen again
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