BROKEN BROOKS
White
flashes as a symbol in the ominous night’s light - a drought of cradled compassions. Perceiving the depths of emptiness compelled the
darkness to open quietly desperately hoping for the vapor of natures’ cure, but
humanity’s injustice can be certain and sure......
Whitewashed tombstones surround a haze of disappointment by shameful acts of life’s enduring complicated
complexions so wretched they seethe through flawed cracks creating a plague of
infections. Clear lucid puss pours like a deluge forming a deadfall rising from
boils oozing slowly down altered bodies wet and thick gripping fading illusions
of shaded promises seeking a remedy to inspire a chant now just a faint
uncertain whisper.
Once
precious dreams refracted now held captive inside fighting to fly repressed
ridiculed and contorted but steadfast beholding distinctive designs but some
people are not colorblind thus vanity can prevail.
Like
a broken brook once filled with aspirations to converge into destiny’s flowing current
so lively and hopeful full of spirited jubilation anticipating acceptance now diverted
and betrayed. Its reflecting foundation carried
many explorers shining and shifting ideas once peaceful and light as a instinct
laced and laden by touches of aged rocks round and smooth now jagged and shard falling
into earth’s pardon becomes a lonely puddle.