The blistering breath
of a desperate death.
A slain season;
we all know the reason.
A life, long lost...
disappearing dust.
Oblivion as a grave;
no one can save.
The rain is gone.
The waters are done.
Time is a murderer;
the blades of a butcher.
Impotent clouds;
sterile skies, no doubt.
Earth seems dehydrated...
a season, outdated.
Disappearance of the rains.
We're left with thirsty drains.
Dryness drastically drags.
The dry season can now brag.
Lanre badmus
November 2017
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