The Stilling of a Pen

Lost and locked against my will;
Thoughts swirl in my head tonight.
The pen in my hand is still.

The page below is emptiness I can not fill.
Warmth in my heart seeks the light,
Lost and locked against my will.

I shiver and shake in the chill.
My soul is empty no longer bright.
The pen in my hand is still.

The soft crush of the green velvet hill,
Hidden by the fresh fallen flakes snowy and white,
Lost and locked against my will.

I listen but I hear nil.
The elders become hushed voices out of sight.
The pen in my hand is still.

What words could possibly fill?
What visions shall you see as their souls take flight?
The pen in my hand is still.
Lost and locked against my will.


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