The blinking cursor on the page just sits,
a metronome of time that passes by.
I wait the song-like whispers of my muse,
her gentle breath I crave like opium.
It's just a harmless phase, I told myself;
a way of passing time. Unwitting fool!
I never felt the talons that were set
into my heart releasing hidden need.
When did the joyful writer fade from view,
replaced by this obsessed face in the screen
devouring each word as it appears;
the taste of sweetness cloying on my tongue?
Addiction, hidden in the guise of art,
demanding succor, feeding on the soul,
consumes each waking hour with its need;
its hungry maw lies latent in each thought.
A lotus breeze drifts carrying the scent
of new horizons I have never seen.
Releasing myself to its mystic call,
I find release; I find that I am free.
Too soon, the blinking cursor once more sits,
a metronome of time that passes by.
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