Spark of creativty

I was going through some really hard times while writing most of my poems

As my mind wanders through reality and fiction,

such passion, such desire, began to race.

Across the floor his face flashed once again

took purpose quietly to slip away.

It is a thing that everybody knows

the fight to find that spark that drives.

The passion of the heart and imagination.

Could it be that is no longer exists?

That my mind did not have the capacity,

to hold the memory of his evil ways,

And the creativity of my heart?

Will my heart grow cold an weary,

without the passion of my life’s dance?

Or can I push him out?

And bring back the light of the passion,

                        that drives one's soul to continue. 

Reviews

[Chris]

An interesting premise...