The Verse is Lifeless

The verse is lifeless

No matter how much I chisel

It won't leap up with gusto

The verse is voiceless

No amount of coaxing

will make it sing

The verse lies flowerless in my garden

I try to nurture it, but

it won't bloom

The verse is soulless

My grandiose words or wit

cannot mask its hollow rattling

The dead verse lies eternal

Any attempts to kill it are futile

There's no escape either

So I keep dragging that dead horse behind.