Monday, 4 November 2013

SANITY HER BANE



Lost
 In a hazy valley,
The poet
Stumbles 
And falls

A familiar abyss
Beckons her
Where 
Some strange love
Was felt

Yet curious much
She yearns to know
What the light 
Has got in store

The possibility 
Of never finding 
Herself
And the waiting
Weakens her`

See, 
The poet is dying
Word after word
Palsied
For days on end

It is her undoing
This quiet she feels
The dam
Stands undisturbed

O break now,
Precious dam
Break now,
And fill this valley up

The poet 
Has lost her
Insanity
And normalcy
Devours her
She's
Stranded
In a daunting
Centre
Longing 
For 
A chance
To breathe.


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