Sand in the eyes, Grit between the teeth,
Visibility’s dead, the Fury’s unleashed.
Out in the open stood preposterously foolish me.
What bade me to expose my soul, my being??
Out in the open, out at Their mercy:
out to be battered by Forces umpteen and Faces unseen.
What hope inspired this maniacal folly??
…the misplaced confidence of a foolhardy teen?
Whereforth came the impression that I’d come out unscathed and in whole??
...once everyone’s extracted their chunk of meat: their merciless toll.
Parched of spirit and in being; Parched, meek and withering
For I’m stranded in a lonely desert (nature’s very own guillotine).
As hope dries up in the blazing, shimmering Heat,
Every drop of rudimentary might drains out of my charring meat.
Trapped in a land where perhaps the sole luxury
Is a speedy funeral :a burial 6 feet beneath.
My own private graveyard. A Memorial, Ha, a Memorial for me?!
…What need for a tombstone for the forgettable and the unworthy??
Consigned to the grave in this abode of sand, I sense, I feel
The World’s burying its Blunder, its Folly: flawed spineless me.
As the elements suck out what’s left of this fleshy heap,
Blood’s running dry, there’s no tears to weep.
The consequence of trying to brave the World (raving ruthless).
Why chose I to battle the raging Tide,
One governed by ‘The Survival of the Shrewdest’.
Sand in the eyes, Grit between the teeth,
Visibility’s dead, the Fury’s unleashed.
Trapped in a land, a garden wherein can be sowed,
Solely the seeds of Sorrow and Misery.
An expansive garden of blistering sand entwining and devouring me.
Bled alive to nurture Their succulent leaves,
Fed upon by Them all, Preyed on without mercy.
Can They not just let a rotting cadaver
Putrefy In Peace??
