Still still.

I have found it increasingly hard
To think as of late.
And because of this ennui that I hate
I sit and impatiently wait
fidget
flutter
and flail
I implore of my muse
inspiration
And motivation
to no avail
So here I sit still
For the truth to slowly unveil.

Echoes

A tiny sound that stretches across vast spaces

Filling them with vibrations and waves 

Overwhelming them with reverberations 

Is now taking place in my brain.