The Fountain

Sitting dry

The fountain waits to be filled again

Dust collects

Distorting the memory of growth

Days pass

As lips crack and bleed for want

Slowly fall

Ravens of death and despair circle

No relief

Nothing to quench the ache inside

Flawed vision

Believing it all comes around 

Looking up

Waiting on the storm to fall with wrath

Clouds shudder

Darkness gathers at the horizon

Hands rise

Ready to accept whats assumed


Sweeter than the fated failure of karma

Let down

Passing by with a whisper of power


With a fountain waiting to be filled again


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s