My Well

It’s here again,

Like a cold morning fog,

It settles on my soul,

Sucking at my well,

It drains from me,

The life,

The joy,

And finally my hope,

Leaving nothing in its wake,

I lay,


Exhausted and run down,

For my well is now dried,

And I a mare shell,

Lay in quiet hope,

That the rain will pour,

And once again I will be whole.

Author: dreamingofluminousthings

Hey I'm Hayley. 26. Australian. Female. Poet/Writer. Writing is my greatest outlet. It is my passion and my escape from an often twisted reality. If you want to help me create more, please feel free to donate. My paypal is

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