little hope
no fine blossoms
no birds twittering jolly song
no wind whispering sweet secrets of life
no burnt offerings to assuage the raging storms
no clouds to ease the draining worry, the awkward pain
no rain as release against the relentless brunt of constant burn
no other globe willing or able enough to take in a battle-worn escapee

too late

better to
learn to sabotage any attempt
to grow
any fruit already
blighted

easier to just let go
just succumb
it's only love, they say
why the fuss?

no need to lament
no need to hope