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Seasons Of Drought

I

The struggle for life begins with the thirst,
Encroaching the pallor-ed grasses of fate.
Seasons of drought becomes now the test;
Set for they who thus ignored their faith..

Rivers become dry, the fishes die...
Sorrow now walks on the fields of the mind..
With a croaked voice, the sun now outcry;
In somber tones of mem'ries thus denied.

When the terrains of moist in life is drained..
And all u see is sorrow and deep pain..
Wat will be the reward of they who framed..
The memories of heroes that were slain..

Season of drought are times when the dust..
Covers the eyes to erase trust..
Built on red clay, in good old days;
When the fountains of bliss reflected the sun's rays.

II
When life becomes the frenemy you seek..
In the face of trials and shaded repose..
When strife becomes a companion so meek..
What do you do, relax, pretty indisposed..

When tears becomes the dust that covers your eyez..
To the point where you then become blind..
If friends becomes the nightmares you dread..
Where will you stand? On the hills of the dead?

Seasons of drought are times of refreshment..
Refined in the furnace heated seven times..
To produce the gold purged from impurities..
Of the mind, soul, devoid of crimes..

Faith in the grasses, the sky withers..
Blooming clouds elope, and fled in the presence of rain..
Seasons of drought sings the humming whispers..
On the salient hills of jaunted pain..

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