![]() Chapter I: Dust-BlownA Poem by Ferras K![]() i've categorised them as poems but i don't think they are really poems. i started them with poetry in mind. so the categorisation. by the way, when does poetry turn into prose and vice versa??![]() weary-eyed, the sojourner edged for the shade and its rest a singular tree, spreading comfort beneath a leafy canopy by this road in the middle of nowhere, going West over dust-blown barren plains, forlornly he walked alone where none would dare, even with fearless armies, take this thoroughfare merciless, the sun seeks his consciousness. respite, he's found for now, the heat won't bite. here, winter's breath is unheard here, the sands don't have a heart mirages, the only certainty in this desolation baking beneath a fiery yellow sun dust devils rejoice with their dervish whirls starved of water, the desert drinks lost wanderers and their souls down to the Valley of Bones this road leads to the place where mirages meet leading tired eyes and weary legs giving them eternal rest a traveller's most welcome here and by that road, he slept dreaming, of the valley down below while the sands whispered their insistent calls from that desert grave, forever greedy dust-blown and wind-swept the desert's waiting, but for now the afterlife and death's dark halls just dreams of a sojourner, weary
© 2012 Ferras KAuthor's Note
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Added on March 12, 2012Last Updated on March 12, 2012 Author
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