Writer's Block

A poem about the struggle of writing a poem

I thought I’d never reach the end But when the Devil drives, needs must. I strove to get that last line penned: ‘The Lord shall raise me up, I trust.’ One struggles writing in the Tower, Time dwindles with each passing hour, And thoughts are easily misled When one’s about to lose one’s head. I fought for every phrase that night, Each word wrenched from the depths of Hell With ever-shortening time to write My valedictory farewell, Yet somehow it was done in time Before I took that last short climb With seconds left upon the clock Towards my final writer’s block.