WORDS-- Cracked

Sun peaks through desolation,

beginning its path

of destruction

to pierce rays through a thick crust

of nothingness.

Heat pounds lifeless mass into submission,

struggling,

but surrendering none-the-less.


Cracks deepen with sadness,

finding no relief

in changing paths,

instead, carving only endless time.

Existing,

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