All the water is gone,
a stiff wind uppercuts the stubble on his face,
a endless horizon running every way,
each time seeking shelter under
a tree as thin as a skeleton, it's bones
cackle with the tepid air.
He heard of an oasis for those lost souls,
a place that quenches the tongue,
a place where it's safe to rest,
a place to settle till eternity,
judging by his legs he's been searching countless years
with not a sign,
It would be easier to stop and turn back,
or sink into the cemetery at his feet,
kneeling, his knuckles
dig graves in the sand,
he decides to wait till his limbs come back alive.
