I've got nothing but a blank page.
disconnection breeds my discontent.
Cyclical despair fights my attempts
to break the moldy mold.
Shout it out!
I can't hear your voice
over the endless, silent noise.
Friendless on the crowded shores.
Would you draw the yew-bow?
When the river runs slow.
Strike the heart of winter's wolf,
break the bonds upon the earth.
Link by link upon my chain,
day by day upon my pain.
I walk the line, of oak and pine,
until the scent can purge my mind.
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