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Friday, 7 October 2016

Begging for her indulgence

Begging for her indulgence

Years have gone, with echo of silence,
since our severance
As a penance for my iniquities against you,
I confined myself to the mud.
Every night comes with late night lantern
burning in my chamber as I try to write,
my ink is as dry as harmattan leaves,
yet my hunger to pen is alive and well,
I write in desiccated lines.

Featured in Heart & Mind Zine. To read the full poem click here

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