• Why can't I just think?
    Why can I not invent dreams for kings
    and stories fit for queens?
    Have I lost my inspiration?

    Before, my emotions ran wild and reckless
    Telling things forbidden for lovers and enemies alike
    I could, for hours on end, not ever thinking of the consequences.
    Yet now, I can not write a single thing!

    The chaos and confusion that ran my life
    ---ran my stories
    They would promote my writing but now i can not seem to find them
    I find myself wanting those very some desires
    ---emotions that kept me up at night to come back

    But atlas, this is what I wished for
    And this was my every heart's desires :
    ---to be left without out a care in the world
    To be left with peace of mind

    So why am I not satisfied?