Amatulla Mohammadi (26 February 1994)

Why is it that my fingers are quivering?
trembling slightly as I stare at this blank page in front of me,
I fear to hold this pencil between them
and my mind shakes in dreaded terror,
What should I write?
I lack that wild imagination of mine now,
I suddenly cant remember things,
somehow, I have lost this sequence of thoughts
and logic is a far-away thing;
illuminated in darkness,
my thoughts I try to rearrange,
What should I write?
I quiver in a nervous sweat
and suddenly the temperature seems high
and my mind too stubborn
to think about the things to write.
I know that time is running out
but my head too tense to obey
and I rub my neck, thinking
What should I write, anyway?