Wasted Lands.

Perhaps, your reticence belies
The hunger in your forlorn eyes;
The wasted lands you tread upon,
The day that never gets past dawn –

When all the things you claim to know
Look foreign in your shaking hands;
You slowly step into the void
That gulfs your soul
In wasted
Lands

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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