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Endless void. Vacuum of thought. You mock me in my hour of need. I ask of you great imagery and prose. You give me nothing. I ask for metaphors and alliteration. Still, nothing. I ask for a solitary joyous thought. I become distracted. Concentrating harder, I beg for powerful words never before spoken. Your emptiness echoes my frustration. I give up, and then you give in. I should have known better, Oh mind of mine. |