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