"an artist's inquiry"

It hurts to be an artist without inspiration. To see the beauty in everything, in the detail of a snail's shell or in the grand hustle of a city street but without that flicker of passion that sets your hands to work. Can you relate to the agony of an artist who sees the light youthfully play in a persons eyes but no longer has the heart to show others? It's as unbearable as a secret, which in its own nature prys itself out of you lips for its own acknowledgement. As an artist what pains me the most is that the only sincerely beautiful thing a being can naturally possess, the gift of sight, is slowly departing from my grasp. So this grave irony that has created a bitterness in my soul has yet found another chasm to plunge itself into.
As a captive's plea, I write this still hoping that it is not too late to redeem myself and to find in me that skill that I had for so long neglected. In this created world which reaches farther than the bounds of the physical, I hope that a spur of energy , inspiration perhaps borrowed from a kindred soul, may somehow find its way to me.