A haloed nimbus, like a surge, it comes on without forecast.
Emotions raw, cold, the flashes like lightning.
Still I have neither a hand to squeeze, nor an ear to my voice.
Nothings protected but my foolish promise to you.
Those furtive actions lie forever buried in the sands of time,
like your lifeless soul that erodes with the winds of change.
2 thoughts on “Weathered”
Winds of no change?
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