The Saga of a 'Returnee'

he sits in the corner completely blank
he creases his brow, deep in concentration
the result; beads of perspiration
he stares straight ahead into the emptiness that is his mind
his brain is parched, ideas no he longer finds
his heart is hollow, passion has left
in exasperation he exhales his breath
he raises his head and wipes his brow
through the fields and wilderness he must plough
for now his (writers)block must become his brick
until the passion and ideas return fast and thick