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Apr 2018
They slumber in their stubbornness, they, alone

They have seen their brethren and extensions lost to the ebenflow

All that is left of themselves is what has not been lost or given.

They have shielded the meek since they left, the safety of the waters, to the bountiful yet perilous shores and banks.

A foot hold for the scenery and possibilities a fort against the storms and heavens tribulations.

Shadows cast, air guided

To be left, alone, I have to leave all I've known or Is known.
I think me a star when I'm only dust.

I try sympathize and synchroniz not knowing I is the disconnect.

I wake in their home surrounded in my stubbornness now they think me my own.

Dust for the young monoliths to grow.
I was in a valley/ canyon in Mpumalanga the air was clear and a storm was a day away.
Medicated and meditated these are some words I remember
Written In a way the stanzas look like peaks in a range.
Thisis A Pseudonym
Written by
Thisis A Pseudonym  21/M/Johannesburg
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