Barren

Temporarily barren

The sun sets,
The moon wanes,
Slowly, days pass by.
And here I sit
With my pen
Still no new thought arrive.

The sky's clear,
The land's barren,
I reflect on my condition.
The year's about to end
I have greetings to send
But still no poetic creation.

The weather's cold,
The leaves've fall,
But I can't eat and sleep.
My brain is dry
And the heart wants to cry
For my ideas are not so deep.

Author's Note

Do you feel the same sometimes?