Out

I.

Buried in me, a well springs up,

Giving life to fresh ideas,

New perspectives are gleaned.

II.

Here lies that well within,

Cold, biting, unrelenting,

Injecting life into words.

III.

It is here in this place,

Where I store my inspiration,

The muse’s hiding place.

IV.

Transforming into an abyss,

Tightly sealed, difficult to access,

Closing itself off to me

V.

Attempts to break into the crypt,

Laughable and fruitless,

A fool’s errand.

VI.

Though it lives within me,

I have lost access,

Now an interloper in my own mind.

VII.

To gain entry perhaps the step,

First to escape myself,

And the bonds of my limited consciousness.

VIII.

Stepping outside myself,

No longer constrained,

By my own oppressive shackles.

IX.

Out of body,

Out of mind,

Free from all constraints.

X.

For I have determined that,

The only way to get in,

Is that I must first get out.

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