Alex Speak · World of Psyche · Writing and Poetry

Break

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Straight sacred lines turn into cracks in due time.

All theĀ  cracks will crawl straight to me.

They spread as roots from a tree spread into the soil.

Everything the cracks impose is unavoidable.

Going beyond; the cracks betray the line in the sand.

What was once sacred is nothing now.

Washed away from the massive gusts of rain and dust.

This cycle will never change.

The lines can never be filled; the breaks will never be repaired.

The worst has yet to come and I am not prepared.

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