Writers Block

My brother was forced from home I tried to ask, "why?" The seeds of our love were sown I received no reply A bit of my soul has died and so has my heart I wonder about you even after all these years apart And when I wake up screaming after all these hellish dreams The tears fall oh my streams that form to rivers and seas. This is only a simple introduction I find it hard to speak clearly, To simply function at this state im too weary. I lost the one person whom destiny chose for me. I strayed from our path and burnt our whole history. The fault of mine is so sublime I brought disaster to what was fine Created needless craters and peaks Everyday we were buried in dead bodies. So you turned around and played my tune To the strings of your guitar Only I after I made the beat To our battles and scars I'm so lost I can't find out how I'm suppose to begin this piece My art form has been silenced for I can hardly speak Maybe just maybe, there's such a thing as happy. However when I reach it, it deserts me for melancholy. I can't even write a simple story. My own fatigue will not allow it. Everyday is a chore to live through The constants have been doubted My thoughts are clouded As though they ever counted Even when I use my left to write down our tale in the sand Your cold hand chills me so that no man may understand The lost touch and lost tears that once were so frequent All the love and the lies and the bitterness in descent. Perhaps I should be content. Perhaps my smile is solemn? Perhaps my spirit is broken? My body has sunken, Driven to insanity by unknown devotion. All of my uncertainty in one entity, How do I begin this poem?