At a loss for words,
No muse pushing my pen;
When all pain is gone
And happines is all around
All I can do is wait.
Wait for something else
To fill my time and brain
Something more than the superfluous
Something profound and meaningful.
Is it worth sacrificing all for art?
Is the relief of writing worth the pain
Which allows the brain to flow
And the words to draw?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.