The Desert

My poem on Life

The dunes feel like heavy bags of sand on my thighs
The scorpions come out for their mid day feeding,
and the Sun, the worse of the worst, piercing
my skin, frying it, burning it.

I walk around aimlessly since i have no map
I bump into a few cactus' here and there.
And a few oasis here and there, but i learned
so far in this wasteland is that nothing lasts forever.

My canteen will soon run out, my energy will be not replenished
my knees will soon give way, and I will soon lose myself within
my own mind. I have a short time here, but I want to make the
most of it.

Maybe a caravan will pass by, maybe a spring can be found
or village. or best of all my hero, Rain, to block the rays of the sun
with his sidekick the Clouds of the atmosphere.
Who knows? I just might make it out of here someday and
see truly beyond this desert.