Nov 2015
Unburdens the dusky river
dreams of flow dead in the bog of hyacinth
harvest burnt in the scorch of aridity
ripples robbed by the silt of dogma
sunbeam denied by the **** of creed
I was meant to reach the sea,
now I would never make it.
I pick the river's shattered pieces
with my own from the wintry dusk.
dreams of flow dead in the bog of hyacinth
harvest burnt in the scorch of aridity
ripples robbed by the silt of dogma
sunbeam denied by the **** of creed
I was meant to reach the sea,
now I would never make it.
I pick the river's shattered pieces
with my own from the wintry dusk.
