Thursday, September 8, 2016

The unused well

I am an unused well,
Located in a scenic range,
Wild flowers bloom all around,
There is lush green vegetation by my side,
By day, I am beautiful and tame,
Waiting to be captured in someone’s frame,
Penned into someone’s poetry,
Captivated in an author’s story,
Or brushed into an artist’s canvas.

By night, I am dark and murk,
In the darkness, evils lurk,
Snakes and scorpions aren’t the lot,
Dangers stem even from scary thoughts,
I stand a mute witness to night and day,
But I was not always this way,
Not long ago there were people,
Who came to me every day,
Their conversations, laughter, voices still echo,
In my deep, still waters,
I have water, but it rots,
My walls are crumbling, there is moss,
Tadpoles and fishes swim about,
Clouding my sparkling waters and past clout,
I see the full moon once a month,
But she doesn’t want to see herself in my murk,
I am an unused well,

I don’t know if I will see any change.

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