I look down at this worn down body,
In this annual time of reflection,
Like an assessor at a road traffic collision,
My blood swills like a cauldron,
Each heartbeat a painful pulse in my temples,
Stress has overburdened this frame,
No solace even in ones downtime,
Somewhere an early grave is dug,

An unwinding repose is required,
So cloak me in lavender,
On a clear day of quiet,
Oblige me a rest upon warm grass,
Inundate me with scented candles,
Fragrances to burn away the strain,
A soothing face mask and herbal tea in the vicinity,
Let the breeze and fresh sky be a therapeutic agent,

I need this,
I need to tear this weight off,
This invisible tax upon my spirit and body,
Bring some balance and zen back,
To restore normalcy to my essence,
And fill back in that early grave.

Comments
  1. Carol anne says:

    great work! I love this! ❤

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