the haunt continues

I settle down to write again,

While the mind plays a game,

A well from which I draw thoughts -

Comes forth as inspiration much.

The stars giggle again in delight,

Forcing the moon to grin boldly,

I realize that the well is dry, and womb -

So barren that no life can ever sprout.

Where then must I seek for sanity?

Can I shatter this illusion of serenity?

And succumb to turning a blind eye -

To the spiraling emotions in might?

The abyss is but an illusion, while,

I am baffled between true and untrue,

Unable to write my heart out, I cry, and -

Tears mellifluously sing my thoughts.