[ writing ] blocked

[laenavesse]

“ blocked ”

The line blinks against the ocean of white,
the lone sentinel that holds creativity back.
Its prisoner sits and waits
plotting.
Waiting for the day it can break free.

An idea sparks and there is a yell
as lettered soldiers band together,
struggling and pushing forward.
But the line consumes them
and all disappear into the white ocean again.

Undaunted they once more break free.
Some pass, some have to change, others destroyed,
but the line gives way.
Letters stain the ocean as their army grows.
Energy radiates off each passage.
Cheers echo with each surge.

But what seemed endless is secretly surrounded by
invisible walls that block their path
and slowly close in.

Creativity pounds against these walls,
crashing through weak points.
But its defiant screams are soon silenced as
rules and forms join the fray and
wrap around it,
pulling back.

The charge halts.
The line continues to blink
waiting
and letters falter.

The line strikes.

Breaks appear in their once tight formation.
Like a snake, the line darts through
consuming unwary letters and words.
Replacements try to rally,
but some groups are lost again
consumed by the sea of white.

Hundreds disappear
and the army dwindles
while fear grows.

Are we not strong enough?
Can we not break through?
Should we give up?

Slowly succumbed by its chains
creativity can only watch
helpless and defeated.
One by one the line feasts,
consuming all in its path
until the sea of white is pure once again.

Creativity is sent back to its cell
still pained by the lashes of conformity.
Its lettered soldiers turn to it
but find no comfort.

There is no light.

They are trapped in darkness
guarded by the blinking line.

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