Gallery

Barren


Iniquity slipped from the grasp of the clocks hands

and sat high upon the throne of eternal complacency

as dew settled on the potential of satisfactions unrequited.

~

Deviant minions slowly sowed the seeds of darkness

hoping to reap the harvest of growing shadows

only to find the light lacking and soil infertile.

~

The years, having been unkind, left nothing,

not a dwindling recollection remained of yore;

the lore had vanished spectral in its passing, ignored.

~

Dust scattered on the fields of grand intentions

disturbed only by the footprints of stray folly

untouched by the stagnant winds of change.

~

What now will become of the untraveled passages

their passions long having faded from the landscape

replaced by the unwritten stanzas’ deep impressions?

~

Will the tiller refill the ruts of lethargy, replenished

or just barely scratch the surface, further erasing

any remaining semblance of what once was?

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