Sitting at the banks of a flooded hope,
I lust for feeling
As I watch it wash to a murky flow,
in its majestic ruin
I’ve aged in solitude,
Grieving the departure of my hopes,
severance of my dreams…
As I lust
lust for meaning,
as life turns to dusk
Sitting at the banks of a flooded hope.
My eyes glazed at the bare horizon
As stubborn as this infinite run,
This flooded river,
Still wishful…
That some day
at the mercy of hopefulness,
As I watch this crumbling majesty to dust…
View On Black
the children of tomorrow
Would remember an old man
And his insignificant, lustful dreams…
At the banks of a flooded hope!
“C. H. Mafi Copyright 2009”
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