Words From the Fragile Spire

The Fragile Spire

Sometimes my mind is spinning in a blur

of things I once imagined like this man

preparing for some conflict to occur,

but that war never will, or never can.

At least these formless things will never see

the nothingness of which I tend to write.

Soon dusk will fade, and this will surely be

another one of many thoughtless nights

spent staring in the mirror where I kneel

to pray that face of me is truly mine.

Nobody knows what I would give to feel

the fragile spire's press on wordless lines.

Despite the block I often meet, I stay

and try to conjure up some other way.