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,

Depleted,

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.

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Author: dreamingofluminousthings

Hey I'm Hayley. 25. Australian. Female. Poet/Writer. Writing is my greatest outlet. It is my passion and my escape from an often twisted reality.

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