Promises Can’t Be Made To Be Broken Poem by Edgar Eslit

There it goes again
The stride can’t close my eyes
for the anguish’s still there
But while the thought of it is rushing
Through my umber veins,
that only burn the uncertainties
For an amend ain’t recuperating
or how could that advent be
forgotten without remorse
when its wound pierced
Deeply, so deep that made other spirits moan.
Now, in the depth hollow of this shaken soul
Left devoured by guilt for the promises undone
Felt 'am broken and totally down