The Battle

The Battle
 
In a battle between words and will
My passion was unfading,
Until I was hit with a writer’s block;
The humiliation was degrading.
My head reeling, I recoiled,
And took a shaky step back,
Trying to clear my head
From the force of the rude smack.
I looked about for the culprit,
Searching all around.
The guilty party I’m afraid to say
Was nowhere to be found.
I picked up the writer’s block,
Its weight was a lot to bear.
As I held it my mind grew cloudy,
One thing, it seemed, was clear:
This writer’s block, this unwanted load,
Took away my will to write,
All I could manage was fifty words
Of obscure drivel and elaborate trite.
This couldn’t be happening,
No, no, not to me!
How could I fight the block,
And somehow break free?
It seemed impossible when
My imagination was shutting down.
I threw out my blue ink pen
And on my face formed a frown.
I had thought I was immune
To the curse of the writer’s block,
But I was just like the others –
A writer down on her luck.
What was it about this block,
That made writers want to quit?
I would not give in
Until I had beaten it!
I was not afraid of some
Second-rate wooden cube,
Whose only talent was
Putting me in a bad mood.
Unsheathing my sword from
The leather belt ‘round my waist,
I shifted my stance;
For impact I was braced.
The writer’s block quivered
Beneath my stony gaze,
It knew the time had come
To count the last of its days.
With one swift blow,
The block was no more.
A smile danced on my lips:
I had finally settled the score.
Ignoring the sliced remains,
I proudly took up my pen
And settled down in my chair,
Ready to write again.
Terri-Ceres Mejias
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