Tuesday 14 December 2010

Desert winds

Travelling for days, I still can't conceive my goal;
Desert sands press their way through my soul,
Outer forces veer me off track.
I try to move forward, but only go back.
If I drop my foot, it sifts
-------------------------through the
---------------------------------------ground,
If I push with my body, winds just turn me around.

I force my way through putrid weather,
My hands in front of me, together,
And the only sound I hear is wind
Blazing its shrill tune through my head
As if I were a seashell and it a kid,
Hearing music through something long dead.

As millions of specks, yellow, red, black, gold,
Hack through the air, I start to erode.
Each memory takes a small part of me,
Grinding me down, never setting me free,
Until I'm not lost, yet not wanting to be found,
Now I'm but a piece of dust, slowly sinking to the ground.

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