Words

I stay awake the night
Watching the seconds tick by.
Waiting for the words to come
But at their loss, I make myself cry.

If I have no words,
I have nothing, no more than a dream.
It's like my mind's rattled empty;
No more than a soundless scream.

I want to live in my poetry,
Speak as an enchantress would.
But I fear I may have lost what I treasure most;
Without my words I am no good.

It's a curse you see,
For my mind still works wonders in an imaginary place.
Though I cannot gather the way it dances,
The pen has lost it's grace.