broken and discordant with a fistful of fears
will the fabric of the noose begin to unravel
before all of the air is crushed from us?
Silence is on the ballot to the union
twist our intentions a little further
the wind tends to murmur little secrets
that caress your mind but are never truly comprehended
antiquated and rusted the tools in the barn forgotten
the crops are dead
the fields are dust
and still we pray for rain
focus on the sun and hope we don’t burn
I would carry your burden
if I wasn’t dragging mine
Wow.
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🙏
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I’m glad I had the pleasure to read this, OP. Brilliant as always with powerful messages!
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Thank you very much my friend 🙏🍻
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