Block

By R.A.B.

I abhor this raging feeling-,
It’s accursed senility that embeds on my soul!
Whence crap has imploded upon my heart...
where a fools mind contradicts my soul.
Burying into the deepest core-
Or putting upon the grandest pedestal-
The soulful art beyond my reach-
my distaff...my chisel...my hand.

Like a foul demon it reside within-
Myself...taking away the ability-
My ability, to create...to mould...to build.

For the saddest of nights it would always be-
till someday I break through the filthy chains
it has bounded my very morality, my being.
Then sunlight would invade my life once again-
Till only then...the block still lives.

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