266. My Struggle As An Artist

For a while, I was lost inside a maze,

where I felt that I could not think.

The words slipped in and out,

and my confidence began to sink.

I felt I couldn’t amount to anything,

that the world was crushing me

from the inside out, that a dark cloud

rushed overhead, causing so much dread,

instead of allowing me to fly freely.

I felt glued to the broken ground,

falling in and out of the cracks below.

And every time I climbed out, I fell back in.

Rivers then filled the cracks, drowning me.

I had nowhere else I could go,

and I felt that I could no longer write.

A waste of space on an empty piece of paper,

that no longer shone bright beneath a candle light.

These were the thoughts that held me back,

until it was time for me to find my wings.

Then, and only then, could I get back on track,

and find my way back to everything.

The maze, itself, was merely a test of time, 

to see if I could survive without my thoughts.

And so I fought and fought until I won the fight.

I left the darkness and returned to the light,

and so I came up with this; my struggle as an artist.