Whispers
I trudge this single drab road,
barren soil abounds.
The clear blue sky gapes and the
Yellow sun burns overhead.
I remember when the clouds hid mysteries.
When a thousand streams
pulled
in as many directions.
And even the end was
a symphony of ice
Like deep pools of black diamond.
The smoke of dreams was my armor
And it was safe to weep.
Every second my heart was reborn.
But these years
Fools have torn away the mist
And my thoughts grow tiny
as the world grows larger.
The knife of clarity has torn
my elaborate fantasies
And robbed me of all but these
faint
whispers.
.: jessdoor.com :: personal :: poetry :.
