Through fields of plastic jelly beans
I wander blissfully
In search of sustenance and means
Life’s cryptic mystery
I journey far by barren lands
Heaped high with wasted souls
And many moons merge with the sands
Denying me my goal
Brackish tears of cosmic sadness
Pervade my withered cheeks
Dampen deep my inner madness
And nurture prospects bleak
I voyage on through farms of chaff
On soil destitute
Impregnable my conscience crafts
Fresh feelings, resolute
My purpose clear to rid my eyes
Of grisly image sown
From seed of sons corrupt with lies
And fruit of mammon grown
My stated hope to find at last
Oasis full of grace
To settle down to fine repast
And forsake fruitless chase