Would you please hold my pen?
For it seems it had gone dry.
Allow me to count to ten,
Then I shall re-try..
Alright, here we go again,
For the seventh time.
The ink is seeping in,
Drawing some signs.
In an attempt to focus, I sigh,
Where is this heart of mine?
Don't you remember the last rhyme?
Yes, it went on a whim devine.
What will we write about?
There's someone on my mind,
What if he doesn't want to be found?
Then I shall dig into his shrine.
Here we go, let us try,
A shiver along my spine.
He seems occupied.
You don't really have to try..
No, I won't give up the fight,
Even when it is unspecified.
Leaving these pondering highs,
To find myself within his shrine.
©dina.nass
D