Tuesday, March 18, 2014

stolen sands

where the wills and willingness wane
the cracks where it seems grow
on a world that is so plain
in a space where the rivers flow

the kodama do not show
and nor do they retreat,
where zephyrs always blow
where the sun will bear its teeth  

shadows in the moonlight
shifting through the street
running from their own plight
for a place to meet 

and under the cold moon
should they have to tell
“Come away with me child
We’re going straight to hell.

“wanted you to notice
And I wanted you to see
This word is not real, you know.
Nothing is meant to be.”

with the passing of a train
a blaring beam of white 
the shadows disappeared
within a flash of light.

I stumbled long on the night
And out into the day
With a sense that we were right
Despite, what others say

the Djinn hear all the choices
of those wishing to bet
to silence all the voices
collecting on their debit

The sounds of jubilation
shrieks that they might cry
Clouded in desperation
as they struggle and they die

all was meant to happen
all was meant to be
the requiem of the desert
so far adrift from the sea

a song that plays slowly
for the vultures in the air
a resilience that grows
without a thought or care

there is a kind of vibrance
to a world that just forgets
met with so much violence
as a quo that’s never met

it persists without a fungi
exists without a soul
dreaming to be better
wishing to be whole

the airid sands are turning
plucked as if by wire
whipping clouds of dust
alive into a gyre

they shredded up the old ways
into skinny strips that flail 
cataloging all the days
that we cannot set sail

as we sit beached and idle
on dry and gritty plains
not a drop to drink for a mile
while feeling our hunger pains

this crystal used to navigate
makes me feel so blue
my crew has been led astray
and others led askew

some into dimensions
to which they cant be found,
and some into collisions
that lead right into the ground

all have been purposeful
and all was meant to be
a phosphorescent blinding
even those that used to see

the days become the nights
the nights become the days
the wraiths of the desert
rise a thousand different ways

come with me and come away
to the deserts and the sand
in the nights as hot as day
unto this forgotten land


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