Passing Whispers
Waves of fractures streak through us
but reside close by
Unsung deeds disguised as if no one would know
They grow naturally...
Sands of untimed dishonesty lining retracted vows,
seeking empty hour-glasses...
And feeding crevices some call
our fate rendered
We stretch the sands to weave staggered steps...
Freeze our gait
when such sapping moments cease to abide
our intricate tryst,
Replicate the fractures
when our void ceases to inspire substance...
Call on words we know face a spring,
yet no fall
A trendy swing...
but not a rhyme
Assign remaining symbols
to deflatable tasks
Alluring intent...
to passing whispers
Copyright © Lebo Bopalamo | Year Posted 2016
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