Poetry

The Lonely Creek

Who cries amidst
this stormy spring,
Wordless sounds of
showers that bring,
Tepid sprinkles of
effervescence that remain,
The quest for enlightenment
stays the same.

The ever twined
 and twisted routes of life,
Rounded and knotted
 and engaged in strife,
Employed in a unending
struggle to seek,
Answers for questions
 by this lonely creek.

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