Dust kicks up as we shuffle and meander on our personal dead worlds,
Like the dust and ash that stuff our bodies and minds.
Parched with thirst, a thirst for invigoration and renewal and prospect.
We look to the sky, with stony countenances and life-bereft eyes
Wishing that we were walking upon the sun
And radiating so bright, with our souls starlit
As they once were aeons ago.
M.M. – 25-Jul-2015
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