Andrew Guzaldo



There is a remote Arid as I walk along its SANDY drifts,
Oh tomb of dregs bitter where black birds trek,
The still air whisks flower canticle melodies of sorrow,
I am a lost discoverer on an unending journey,

This desolate sand has an eerie obverse familiarity,
As if I have roamed this valley once before,
In hopes of fleeing from an agonizing past,
In search of something reliable & steadfast,

Oh deep blue Ocean in the vastly distance,
To have her in my arms would be like a dagger of angst,
As the fiery sun blazes brightly with a sky of blue,
I can only say at the endow of this journey I hope for you,

The heat of the Arid bears too much for survival,
It is your love that keeps me live as I thrive forward,
As the stars cold hoist up above craving subside,
At night comes frigid cold fastened to the sand,

I grab sand perplexed as it slips through my fingers,
Yearning as my love has befallen with my present anguish,
For I now am that forlorn Lover in the ARID SANDS”
By AG. 3/25/2018 (C)

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