a blank canvass

a blank canvass

standing before a blank canvass with an empty palette
open eyed holding a dry brush and no scent of a paint
the astringent smells anxious coat the fingers calloused
poised to pollute toxins rush consciousness grows faint
empty thoughts fill the mind imagination has reversed
talent training the working hours poured out onto sand
attempt to reach seek or find footsteps again traversed
in the ashes of the forest flowers gray against the land
a blank page awaits a dry pen soundless words gather
echoes of scratches curse ears teeth clinch in despair
the deepest cuts will never mend amidst voices blather
as photographs of ghostly fears seen in the sun’s flare
afraid to meet the the truth the soul whimpers instead
a pitiful mewl unheard proof tickles senses of the dead