How did this road suddenly get so short?
and the passage to heaven became a dead end?
A dried-up lake with birds
who dig for water
and two desperate rivers
who run to hide.
Train wrecks on the sun's melted tracks
and words ignored in dusty bunks.
The roof of the world has fallen
and killed our prayers,
life drained
and how can I write without fingers and blood?
Don't speak, my love...be silent and listen to the pain,
A flower is born in despair...
hear his cry.
photo by knollzw, https://pixabay.com
