The Drought Inside
I want to rest your sunk emotions here
A tender gorge pending
and refusing to heal
In this place, untied we cannot be
Here, your best can lie askew
A scattered glow, a rosy plume
Enraged, a crafty ruse will soon appear
Resilient and not bending
to touch or feel
To date, the cult of this reflects on me
But chances are, the guide is you
With fading sight, you saw mine too
Retract all frosted seas and flow me near
Tonight forebodes our ending
and haters seal
An empty gorge when silence means
A suite of triumphs, unseen and new
A plundered dream, a hounded hue
Melt the crust, sew the cracks and hear
A sigh unsigned, denied tending
to repeal
The drought inside when broken petals peel
Each daring chance to break is true
Recurring crusts is what they do
Copyright © Lebo Bopalamo | Year Posted 2016
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