Writer's Hell

Oh a hell I go to way too often

Can't think of nothin' to write,
Something isn't right,
I just wanna drop the rhyme,
But I can't seem to cut the time,
The hands on that clock be swaying about,
And I stare at this paper in doubt,
Because it's still blank as hell,
Endless white at the bottom of this wordless hell,
The white embraces me, swallowing me whole,
Trapping me in a hellish dull hole,
Ensnaring me in monotone,
I hear the unwritten words groan,
Swirling all around me,
If I don't get them out of my head I'll be,
Dead, 
All red,
Painted crimson by my unwritten words,
Antagonized, stampeded by herds,
Nouns and verbs, consonants and vowels,
Tearing me apart from my bowels,
They're buzzing inside my head,
If I don't get them out then I'll end up dead!
The words are in need of immediate eviction,
I must satisfy my addiction,
I have to break free from this white,
Tonight I will win this fight,
Hell breaks to fierce writing,
My pen does the fighting,
Banishing demons with each stroke,
Such inspiration they evoke!
Staining the page black with my thoughts,
The ink-blood of my imaginative battles been fought,
The white fades to scattered black,
As words fill the page front to back,
The buzzing stops, 
The rhymes drop,
Writing fills all around,
Relieving me of this menacing sound,
And finally all I hear is peace,
A satisfying release.