of blue butter

When the jewel of the nile lacks lustre and motivation
when the ticking of moments lose their allocation
and the temperate mind climate seems unobtainable
and the elements neither bother nor excite
you wonder what crumb is left
you ponder for a moment you forget how long

when the arrow drops from lack of speed
when the marrow in your bones wont do the deed

and the wind is not felt
and the final hand seems dealt

you cant but study the erosion on your plan
you seem to embrace the thought how did I ever think I can

lonely for a crowd to be lost in
lonely for a voice above the din
of silence