Endless Quest

Endless Quest

At my table with fingers over keyboard poised,

Awaiting inspiration some story to be deployed.

My mind in its ever-changing kaleidoscopic fashion,

Thoughts seared with feelings both melancholy and ashen.

It’s not the crowds or pleading assailants I seek to please,

But my lonely broken spirit that brings me to my knees.

Vacant lines crying, empty plots seared by time’s remorse

No longer corralled encircling some tear or smile or simple course.

Within the depths of what was supposed to have been,

Awaits a single line, a simple notion, a simple lyrical friend.

Pen drawn as if on some writer’s battlefield pondering,

Wind’s last breath, a dream’s single whisper hopelessly atoning.

This wasn’t my purpose as some might have thought,

That’s tethered me everlastingly a scribe’s imprisonment sought.

Yet, with soiled feeble fingers, pinched brow, and squished eyes I sit,

Starving with my mind groping some tale to tell, I’ll never quit.