Lost In The Void

 I am bereft of all meaning. 

Empty

 There was once an idea that I would one day rise to the title of Author. That my words would be known to more than just those within my inner circle. 

But that day has not come. 

I have not commodified my ability in a way that has satisfied my desires and yet...and yet my desires are gone. 

Is my will to write truly dead or is it in slumber? Waiting for the right catalyst to awaken it? 

I don't know. And I can't know, as the nature of this. I feel like a man walking in the dark led forward by nothing, not intuition, or fear or desperation.  I am led forward aimlessly.