Acceptance of a drab day
The heavens unload their liquid cargo's
as the suns desertion begins
and the wind cries of whatever wildness it wants to be.
I,am standing in the kind of light,
that I have no love for,while trying
to keep its effects within civilised limits.
In this natural kingdom of indescisive aftermaths,
from which the feeling of uncertainty takes its camouflage,
I rely on inner comforts,continuing,to lean on memories
as perfect as the flawlessness of love,
that my mind,can weave into patterns
of new,and heartwarming acquisitions.