The burden overwhelmed me. Drought had come.
I struggled with my pain. My glorious past
Might never come again, and I was lost.
The need to support myself choked my muse.
She left me to my own devices, crushed.
Deprived of her touch, the dry ground puckered.
But, in time, a new storm came. Thunder boomed
And the lightning flashed across my parched soul.
The torrents fell and drenched my once-blank page.
My thirsty muse found the well again filled.
She set a table, knowing my hunger.
When she cajoles, resistance is futile.
The desert blooms. I AM BACK!
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