Writer’s Block

Setting in like a moonless night,

Darkness hindering my sight.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

I have no idea of what to write;

Waiting for the sound of an electric light.

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

Should I write of archers and swordsmen?

Or a fox hunting down a hen?

Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.

So I sit in my house, in the room called the den,

and try to bring this writer’s block to an end.