Crossing this desert
Barren emptiness washes
Across my eyes and bakes
My spirit into hardpan.
Void floods the vacant
Interstices deep within.
Seeking some solace
The radio offers naught.
In this embittered landscape,
Evangelists all
Preach fear, hate and damnation,
Adding salt to wounds
Long festered and encrusted.
No gracious balm to be found,
And so I journey onward.
We must have been traversing similar territory of late, if this is the writing of a recent or current feeling. I’ve seen this theme in a lot of poems and blogs just the past week. It has been interesting to note. I hope you journeyed onward into a patch of solace…
Peace
Michael
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