Drought

You walked and wallowed into my heart with your woes,
and left it devoid of its nutrients, honey and hormones.

Hear this, you have made me a reaper of ruins and remnants,
yet I seek to be a humble harvester of hopes and happiness.

I am a persevering pursuer of peace, progress and plenty,
yet my heart is a heavy heater that is home to homelessness.

Contrary to your campaigns and claims, my heart is no longer
a house with walls, doors, rooms, a drainage and electrical system.

It’s no longer filled with oxygen but a hellhole since its arteries
and veins are a bleak blankness that is brutal to the pumping

of blood around my body. Drought, you speak a bare language
of betrayal and brutality that leaves my heart bereft of vitality.

Drought, hence my heart seeks nothing short of a definite divorce
from your desolate, disheartening, deceitful and decadent decay.