Shutdown

It begins in the well

Liquid turning to gas

Fully evaporated 

Bone dry

 

The flowers begin to wilt

Dying of thirst

It’s only source of sustenance

Lost in the night

 

Finally, the soul becomes restless

With no water to refresh

And no plant to nourish

The hunt grows sparse

 

And so, cornered

Blade dull from disuse

The soul shuts down

Unable to fight any longer

~

Photo by Christopher Sardegna on Unsplash

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