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Hunger

I have a vision,
Of beauty and sadness,
Of renewal and completion.
But the words do not come.
They cluster in my throat,
The dry clumps choking me.
Oh! the clichés, the expected,
The mundane, the orthodox.
The beauty I see in my mind’s eye,
My pen cannot immortalise.
It’s distressing, frustrating:
Unbearable for a writer.
The intricacies,
The wonders,
The affirmations
Remain locked in my head.
Hidden beauty,
Unfound joy,
Manifest on my page!
But nothing comes.
The vision taunts me,
Disparaging in its elusion. 
My hunger is barely satisfied,
And I still desire more,
So much more,
Than I can ever have.
I strive on,
The need within, endless.

Author notes

Another one of those midnight babbles that truly reveal the worst of us.

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Comments


  • Desdmona
    March 27

    Edit | Reply
    Oooh. Wow. I liked this. Best line: "The pen cannot immoralise". This is good. And the title fits really well too. Good job and good luck. ~Des