Again

A cinquain chain

source

it came
out of nowhere
a dying need to be
that flared for a second before
fading

fading
exhaustion drips
from souls: wearied, pushing
for some semblance of normalcy
retained

retained
like the feel of
memory words dripping
venomous tears, passionate pain,
some form.

some form
of love and art
disguised as a price for
consolations of the soul, burnt,
burning

burning
bright lights that flared
for a second before
the eclipse that ended it to
begin.

C. Duhnne for Poetry in Form.