I feel like every writer has once or twice experienced this
That moment when your heart feels so heavy
Lips full of unspoken words 
Screams that only silence knew about 
With mind full of thoughts, cries and echoes of silence 

Then comes the boredom that sits on your chest as questions what you want to do with your life 

But when you pick your pen, you realize that there is no ink....Mind you this is different from when the pen bleeds
You have a lot to write about, but the zeal is missing 
The power to continue is far gone
And like the frustrated laundry man during the raining season laments "one day, my clothes will dry"
So you say, "one day my ink will be filled" and my spark will return, but for now, Aluta continua

#Bruisedpen