Sunday, 9 April 2017

Empty Souls

Empty souls
With so much dryness
They try to fill their cup
With water from others wells
But they are never full
Never do they overflow

With shallowness
They try to dig holes
Into others wells
To dry them as well
But their souls remain
Empty spaces

With hollowness
They wonder around
Bitterness in their hearts
Venom filled tongues
Splitting evil into others
But empty they remain

With blindness
They fail to see
Clueless they move
Round and round
They stumble and fall
In their own wickedness

Their days
Are as dried up
As blown by the harmattan
Their souls
Are as lifeless
As the Atacama desert

No comments:

Post a Comment