Dust

big voice swallows little voices
the dust blanket the earth continuously
fall from the sky and the air pressures
I chase the dawn that keeps running from me
I thought I can forget my anxiety
still I walk on never ending road
passing narrow street unlighted
when find myself in blind labyrinth
I take a hard breath but move again
can it be called...hope?

poem by Maria Sudibyo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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