Will it Burn?

I found on this ground something profound.

Cracks of dirt, dried and hurt.

This drought brought doubt.

Will the rivers flow?

Will water come?

Will the days repeat the heat?

Unable to shed a tear.

The air is surrounded by despair.

My lips are unable to drip.

The sky mocks with empty clouds.

The desert cries with silence loud.

Will it burn if the rivers don’t return?