Untitled

Untitled. 
Mud, heavy, thick weighing in like a rock.
Crushing pebbles one by one
Wind howling in the darkness
liquid night reflecting strains
singing songs of perpetual lacerations
crying out, holding on to glimpse
praying for kindness
Conceiving smoke
paying umbrage to indignation.
piercing commentaries of enmity
birthed in pride and ignorance.
slamming diverse
never-ending affliction
By: Bernice Bowling