The Muse\'s quill rests still on inspiration\'s kill, no glimmer in the dark
No spark to mark revelations of which to hark, mind\'s gears frozen in park
Dried ink\'s well lost its spell, no tales to tell, lost is imagination
Tongue tied, Calliope lied Erato at her side barred from communication
Blind, no diamonds to find, in dark mines of my mind I dig for information
Dry rock I chip but drip by drip I fill just muddied buckets of consternation
Try as I might no bright crystal in sight, thoughts go blank losing determination
I\'ll close this mine and put up a sign, \"Here does recline my muse of divination\"