Nameless

I crave for even the faintest touch of inspiration
 Its rivers have seemingly dried up
 The past weeks have silently gone by like nameless citizens in a waiting line
 Scattered grey clouds have altered my strategic game plan
 I must dig deep
 An amalgam of taunting voices wittingly took the limelight away
 from the notes that should be treasured
 I have been comfortable wrapped in discouragement for far too long
 Words and actions have somehow lost some of their sweetness
 I need to regain my thirst for optimism
 Deaf will be these ears to you serenades
 Blind will be these eyes to your charades
 Cold will be the front that welcomes you
 Scattered grey clouds have weakened my strategic game plan