Back again, in the tumultuous fray.
Uncertainty bellows, to my dismay.
What do I do with this tension I carry?
The spreader of thoughts that I must parry.
When will it stop, when will it end?
When will I feel like myself again?
I thought I’d bested you, my old foe,
But now you’re back, looking to grow.
I look for quiet, solace, and peace.
I must find my way through this unease.
The Pent Up Poet 
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