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I’ll Rise From The Mud
I am stuck in a bubble of black, molting lava.
The sky is a thick heavy.
The earth’s soil upheaveled.
I sped down the most beautiful highways that were lined with the skeletons of trees and trees that were lush too.
Yet, I find myself stuck in the most stubborn of sludges.
I can’t see the stars.
I can’t feel my feet.
Maybe if I keep pouring ink— thoughts lost in translation— my words will turn from dust to diamonds.
If I wrap my arms around the sun— cling ever so tightly— will I rise in the sky, luminous? Unglued?
I wrote this when I was very sad
Reach the light
Kayode Steve Adaramoye Esq
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