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manu-muellerPoems
A trail of footprints- their cavities deep Marked on these sandy dunes Following these are misnomer winds Blowing from foreign soil bereft of moisture, choking my throat I cough out black blood My thirst remains unquenched As the sun casts its cannon In my direction burning The last strip of tolerance The dusty, rogue sand storm Unwilling to cease Swirls around ******* my energy And in the desolate air of pure abuse I lie numb; The oasis of ecstasy beyond my reach The oil in my living wick has dried up Penniless I happen to be No money but work is ghastly Thus, do not question or comment if this wick remains unlit tomorrow For the path I treaded was mine ALONE So let the end remain lonely too ~Manu M.
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Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
Untitled
A trail of footprints- their cavities deep Marked on these sandy dunes Following these are misnomer winds Blowing from foreign soil bereft of moisture, choking my throat I cough out black blood My thirst remains unquenched As the sun casts its cannon In my direction burning The last strip of tolerance The dusty, rogue sand storm Unwilling to cease Swirls around ******* my energy And in the desolate air of pure abuse I lie numb; The oasis of ecstasy beyond my reach The oil in my living wick has dried up Penniless I happen to be No money but work is ghastly Thus, do not question or comment if this wick remains unlit tomorrow For the path I treaded was mine ALONE So let the end remain lonely too ~Manu M.
manu-mueller
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manu-mueller
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 5:30 AM UTC
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