Sun peaks through desolation,
beginning its path
to pierce rays through a thick crust
Heat pounds lifeless mass into submission,
but surrendering none-the-less.
Cracks deepen with sadness,
finding no relief
in changing paths,
instead, carving only endless time.
the only option with nothing to reap,
with nothing to unearth,
with nothing to find.
Parched lips bleed passion that once was,
while saliva burns dry
across gasping gullet.
Desiccated buds press withered gateway
in an attempt to remember the taste,
to recall the tang,
then null it.
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© 2013 Peter Gillespie