The bells, the bells.

C. J. Black

It’s coming near the witching hour, time to rest the head
But with so many factions working against me I’m filled with fear and dread
The demons must be obeyed or they will hover all night long
Until I sit and write and write, they’ll not return to where they belong
I’m not complaining I’ll have you know, just venting my spleen
For to write something constructive I am awfully keen
But it’s very hard to visualise, as I sit here with bleary eyes
Of what will be the final outcome, what will be the total sum?
Talking to myself I tell you will be of benefit to no one
Stating that, I must admit I work better when alone
Having to rely on myself with no one else to consult
Always works out in my favour – there will be an end result
A blank page has yet to defeat me when I’m on my game
If I make mistakes along the way I just have myself to blame
It’s now way past the witching hour the demons have abated
I have calmed the nerves, that’s good, I need not now be sedated?
Off I go now to rest awhile and come down off this high
The end is in sight I’m glad to say – the word well has just run dry.
C. J. Black©β
Monday, 14th July 2014