Washed away, sandcastles, stacked grains of imagination.
Sleepy, no resistance to incoming tides, lethargy.
Stumbling creations trip over anxieties roots;
once fallen, who will mourn their demise?
Author notes
As anyone can see, my inspiration is asleep. Also had to cancel my gold membership, as no longer have a credit card.
Comments
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I feel like this alot my muse has not been the best lately I do hope that you do get back within the writing thanks for sharing much luck always
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