| ~Desert~ Cactus rub their thorny hands As the dust storm settles The sun beats across the arid sands. Dust shaken from worn out boots. In this dusty, dry town. Tumbleweeds pass with brown roots. Desert ghosts whisper from stones In this barren windblown land The sands are rich with bleached bones. A man walks across the blasted �scape. The cliffs cut in like a bloody scrape. Still he walks, searching for a way out Dusty boots shift sand His parched throat like a drought. The cliffs are like prison walls. Tumbleweed blows about him like game balls. The end is coming in a short while. He sees a shape Dry old Death, with a humorless smile. He walks toward him with a tired grin And leads him on They walk together to the unknown ocean. |