Whispers of the mind

 

On some late harmattan nights,

The wind blows.

Carrying with it the dust of the day,

The droplets of someone's hard work,

And the city's bubbles of excitement.

But folded carefully in its arms,

Are self pity, condensation and insecurities.

And on this cold night it wraps me warm on my bed.

Petting my mind with doubts and distress,

And serenading my heart with sinister regrets... 

photo credit: pixabay.com