A forest adorned
By dead trees
Burnt bark
Pitch black
Dotting my progress
Through it;
White chalk
Drawn over the bark
Trying to find
In badly rendered reflections
Of my thoughts
For which dream
Likes being penned down
And given shape
When it has all eternity
To see
And grow;
Grey clouds swirling above
Muddy water beneath
Sloshing through
Just for the sake of getting my feet wet
No end in sight
Lost in my home;
This Marshland of My Life.


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