Monday, April 5, 2010

Holding without
Reaches the wanderer
Burnt in concealing sands
Desert heat breathed on to her

Her's is a violent life reduced
Within the dry mist of death
Behind sun cracked lips
Inside a tasteless breath

She seeks beyond the veil
For things she cannot see
On top the sifting dunes
A sickness running free

Iron chains dissolved
In the harsh time of sands
The thick links fell below
Free branded wrists hide the hands

Each foot stumbles slow
Hands drown in a barren ocean
Attached to nothing more
Than a dry eroded motion

Here you are
And here she lives
Locked freely in burning fragments
For a vision you couldn't give