Empty Well

Empty Well

Empty,

drained.

There are

no words,

to acclaim,

proclaim,

or frame,

any sentence,

or the

reality here.

The beauteous

now barren.

The flourishing

now flat.

We are

bludgeoned

by the banal business

of the functional,

instrumental,

and administrative.

The inspiration has

been.

Gone.

No words appear

upon

the whitened expanse

of the page,

or life.

Empty

the well is

not.

The river has

run

dry.

 

Simon C.J. Falk 1 June 2017IMG_0093

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Author: simonfalk28

Country lad, Focussing on verse.

6 thoughts on “Empty Well”

  1. Great poem. I think at times we all feel like an empty well. However, when the time is right, we are filled back up especially when we find something positive to set our sights on.

  2. This evokes such sadness and hopelessness. You feel like getting up and shaking yourself out of this stupor…. Stop being degenerates and start living instead. Beautiful!

  3. Thanks, Pradita. I was in an odd place then. Really tired and wrung out. Plus I felt starved from attending to the superficial. So… I wrote about it.

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