No Writing For Awhile

No writing for awhile,
Smoldered by creative denial,
Burning whiles the dial,
Ticks in horrid style.

No writing for awhile,
My brain bleeds in beguile,
Inebriated in untempered trial,
Curving like the snake-like Nile.

No writing for awhile,
To cry with those who rile,
Who vomit grief, screeching bile,
Moved with them who defile,
The romance of a writer's mile.

Bent down by a dreamish stance,
As the empty rhymes do not advance,
I look at art in askance,
As I merrily aim its flameful lance,
To defend the harpy's baseless chance.

I must wonder when the writing will begin,

And begin mint-fresh again.