I search for you but i can’t find you

i looked and a glimpse couldn’t see

you keep eluding me.


Where art thou, o fair maiden?

You who bestows the gifts of words to men of


and oratory to men of learning and understanding.


Sitting in the dark, i pant for your light;

thirsty i am, and long to be filled by the sweet

waters from your lips.


Empty am i when you leave me

unschooled am i without your tutelage

useless unless you enrich me.


Teach me that i might others teach,

fill me, that i might bestow unto others of the


inspire me and let me others ignite.


Giver of words, inspirer of men

where…. art… thou?

4 thoughts on “Drought” by topazo (@topazo)

  1. Good one..thanks for sharing

  2. Lost your muse ba? Sorry o!

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