Cycle In Balance

My thoughts are the wind,
and that bastard sun
uncovered by below-shaded clouds
verily threatening to bring solace
to every starved, jagged crevice
of my black desert soul.

My emotions are the cracks,
and the brittle bones
wasting away to fine powders
that glisten in darkened corridors
as in each disturbed grain they carry
each disturbed lessening of solace
worn away by surmised discovery
in truth spoken by the lighted storm.

My thoughts are the wind,
and that bastard sun…

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