Imaginer Lost

I have lost my way,
My identity has been removed,
I feel nothing, my sight is blinded,
I’m numb, my passions lay in ruins,
Time flies at a relentless pace,
Can I exist, until this block passes,
When will art return to these hands,
To again be creator, and not an observer,
Will I dream again the way I once did,
When will I stop being so afraid,
I’m not the imaginer I once was,
I feel dissected and laid out,
Like an insect pinned to a board,
A facsimile of what was once fierce creativity.