Remnants of Joy



There are no more letters to write.

Refusing to write for a receiver with inauthentic eyes, the well ran dry.

Not interested in seeking to understand, as exhaustion rears its ugly head.

A love once alive now fizzled…too calloused to bleed.

Formerly a desire to be a hope in a future creed.

Abandoned dreams weaved upon a scenery of tear built cities.

Ah, wasted investments.  Many receipts, I have plenty.

I didn’t ask to drink from a well of dreams that would never quench my passion.

A duct taped heart awaiting the next snatching of the healthy love I possess.

Realization is there is no point to even confess.

Swallowed whole and all that is left

Purgatory prayers upon the salted road deeply rooted

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