I look out on a cold, cold morning
At a sky layered with clouds
Like cream being folded unto cream
In a sweet dish of cupcakes.
I smell the sweet, sweet winds
From a place unknown
Does it carry a whisper from a friend
A prayer from a stranger
Or a child?s dream
For me, an unknown..
I see the land
As parched as the peoples eyes
Dried of happiness, drained of tears
Pulled by years.
Yet waiting for the rains
These ruthless clouds had promised,
Is white the color of purity,
Or a color to mask the loss of dignity?
In an uncouth place of pleasures
Where take only remains
And given back is Nothing.
In this once blessed land
Of seas and deserts and Sun,
Where God thought He'd build his home
I see now a void amidst
The horizon and
Where the beanstalk is said to end.
