the hot sun beats down where i dwell
sands blown across the plain
my eyes sting hot prisms
i can't seem to remember my name
i am parched, mother earth does not relent
my mind is driven with wild desires
there is a stranger i see in the distance
beckoning me to walk through the fire
my skin is tingling from the heat
is this the king that knows me
his crown is made of weeds
an old man blinded and can't see
how does he know my name
there he sits upon an old mare
the sun behind is back
he laughs like he doesn't care
the souls of the dead dance before my eyes
succumbing to embraces of wild body gyrations
what is this strange dance they swing to
earth swallows them, they dance no more in exalt-ions
©dlawrence9
D