
Oblivious to crashing waves,
Sodden sand beckons.
An enthralling call,
Drawing me further away,
From desiccated landscapes.
Mountain tops in circular motion,
Become miniature with each passing minute.
Purplish hue radiates abundant beauty,
Amidst its coy revelation.
In a brief, expedient pause,
My silhouette stood tall in grandeur,
Like that of the Trojan Horse.
Unparalleled in the moment,
For my fight is finished.
Refusing to replicate the ramblings,
Of a buoyant militant,
To a place intolerant of my being.
A diminished colony,
Where magnolias remain closed,
Destined to wither away.
Unbridled, adamant stride accelerates,
Fate isn’t held hostage to a mirage,
Coursing through a parched dessert.
May the sand forever quench my feet,
Synchronously embracing every footprint.
As I welcome raucous waves,
Connected are we,
Thriving and free.
(c) Monica St Hillaire, 2022.
Monica this is a moving piece. I especially love this line “Fate isn’t held hostage to a mirage”. This speaks to me. Thank you for sharing your wonderful work. ā¤
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Thank you kindly, LaDonna.
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