Dampierre Lourenco

Will it rain tomorrow?

Of clear days come by, lush memories of verdant land, all of frolick and greenery, once kissed the sky.

And a satyr hissed below, "lucky are we for we come to pass, before the day when strikes the blow".

With a smile a mile wide, a sneaking cloud bares its gleaming teeth.

Cassandra wailed in vain, "An absence of measure and harmony will bring us great pain".

At dawn, the horizon burns as fields of sorghum bloom.

What stormy skies conjure, an uneasy cloud dissolves into tears, a precipitous nebula of yesterday's fears.

The drop falls on cracked ground, and reveals its sulfurous payload, a kaleidoscope of neglect.

Envoyé: 23:58 Mon, 25 March 2024 by : Dampierre Lourenco age : 26