David Dewar - untitled 2

behold,
my creative muse
is laying in bed
not likely to rise
not a song nor poem nor scribble
comes out of mine poor head
could it be?
my wits wear thin
my sanity now rests,
the insomniac ways of life
are dooming upon me
nay
tis a passing thing
like fashion or fad
my thought will return
but in good timing?
i urge you to consider
if i shall die
before i wane
tis certainly my dooming fate
which draws nearer to my mind
as the lowly summer begins to decline
to fight though
may withhold my contentment
of impending sorrow
is my will to be
put to an uncomprehensional test
or shall i accept defeat
in the dewy doom
the decision is one to bear
like the solitude of melancholy waters
yet in death
love can be found
an adventure no man want fathom
an equator of guilt
is spread across my trembling soul
i quiver where i lay
in the dark of day
oh what cruel demon
hath bestowed this upon myself
mine mind is blank
and heart not loving
the blossoms of springtime
no longer hold such beauty
my eyes do not entomb
what i wish to see
yet display
a versatile scape of nothing
i implore a one desire
it burns in me like embered fires
i am consumed
by a hate of the wretched figure
who hath made mine life so bleak
alas, where is thy love
who can torment me no more
so i may write again
on parchment so dear
the quill of my life may yet still be restored
till that faithful day
here mine body shalt lay
fighting off pawns of death
and keeping fate
and sweet solomn bay

David Dewar

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/untitled-2-35/