This one is about eight months old..

Rain trickles slowly down my face, wetting my cheeks.
Then the clouds come.
Confusion mixes with despair and drowns me.
I'm lost in ignorance and I can't see the signpost to the future that flashes exit; the way to carry on.
The bulb has blown. No spark. No illumination.
The quickest road to home is the one that passes by a shop that sells lightbulbs.
But a fix is never so easy.
I need to create my own spark again.
I need to be electric.