The Water Settles For Me

Wrapped with strings of mess,
heartbreaks, and a dry throat.
Treading through a cursed desert for days,
No love to create butterflies,
No feeling to create a single spark of hope.
The air is brown, and unfriendly,
The ground is hard, and my feet pays for it
like we’ve been fighting since 1960.

My tongue has lost its colour,
and my words have no taste.
How i got here, i forgot to trace,
no story, just a burning desire to vanish.
This thirst that burns without reducing to ash,
Only water can settle it.

Victor Oyedele