Abysmal Valley Dolorous
James Goldmann
The first circle was filled with so many other shapes
A sea of angles, colors
Mostly shades of lusterless grey
Unwittingly staring across barren plains
Fruitless trees
Settled dirt caked into their eyes
A fleeting hope, a single blade of grass
I've settled for less
To idly pine for contentment
A welcome starvation
“Lost are we, and are only so far punished
That without hope we live on in desire”
I would love to be consumed by soft white noise
Satisfied with endless longing
Empty arms without belonging
“Dust will not baptize your tortured soul”
I am the drought