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|  Poetry

Thoughts; 

Polluted

Suns eluded

Pens raced in and out of time

Faith commuted

Prostituted

Met the verge of suicide

They lay there where the river’s bent

To streaming thoughts, tapped their toes

Not sure where the river sets

But hoped to god it flows

Scans computed

Minds; deluded

Fears; stirred and amplified

Music; muted

and prosecuted,

Now slithered into wailing sighs

They lay there where the river’s bent

Their fears and hopes all disclosed

Their misty eyes in haze had wept

Consoling ebbing flows