The Drought Was The Very Worst

The drought was the very worst.

It was an era filled with love, with passion.

Yet it all ended in a drought.

A summer was all we wanted, to let all of our flowers bloom and grow.

But no. What we had was a drought.

All I wanted for myself was to reach my goals and surpass any expectation.

And yet the drought came.

All I wanted was a year full of life, a will, a new beginning that’ll let my father reflect on what the true essance of life is in his old age.

Yet death took him. The drought.

All I wanted was you to find your way back home, to my arms. To where you belong.

But I guess these arms are no match to those you found comfort, in a place I was assured you’ll never find another pair. The drought.

All I wanted was to prove something to myself, to get my life together. To assure those who believed in me that I had a chance with fate.

But no. The drought had to came and eat my soul and sanity alive.

It was a mind-boggling era. An era I did not expect a single bit. An era I did not want, yet I had in a blink of an eye.

The drought was the very worst.

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Standing still in a fast-paced world.
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