Wasteland.

In the wasteland of gibberish, winds burn

with intrepid ambiguity

working with the insolent sun to turn

tides on conformance.

Monstrous waves of compliance

hit hard on the walls of creativity

using it’s longevity to erode

the spirit in cement.

Expectation is floundered

in it’s perilous voyage

as the sun bursts with individuality,

leaving caution to drown and lie

on the ocean bed.

Dead.

And shining bright

a sky littered with stars

for all the world to see

whilst budding enthusiasm

plants roots in the long forgotten

soils.

Ready to feed.