Arise, muse, arise.

I wrote a poem. It's lame. Like many of them are. Take a look.

Then there's tomorrow.

Time lays still.
Watching
nothingness
pass by.
Lives lived
void of devotion,
love,
lust,
life.
Sadness persists,
bringing loss,
denial,
depression,
death.
Even so,
hope remains.
Desire
for time
to begin again.