Inspiration Lost

I was once so passionate

I can feel the fervor oozing from my soul upon revisiting words I once spilled onto pages.

I fell for him over a one night romance

As he brought my innermost passion to outward being

And considering the truth now

Becomes a crippling life-force

Where did zeal go?

Lost to the serenity of meditation?

Life may be better, except poetry had to die.

A self-centered trade off of the ages.

Is it far better for me to have lived a contented life?
Or stayed in hell and left behind words to touch lives of countless others?

I want to be noble, heroic, sacrifice mine for the many!
Yet I sit here living that lie-

A selfish, self-seeking, self-centered killer

Of the immortalized feelings of word.