Serendipity #4.

The crows are dead,
All lined up in the drain.

The rain has ceased,
Boundaries set by the nature.

Conversations grew out of proportion,
A result of humane faults.

We’ve stopped loving,
A consequence of myopic impossibilities.

The rain has ceased,
But I know a storm will come tomorrow.

Hurricane, might it be,
Show us that we might all be naught tomorrow.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

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

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com 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