I remember the desert,
Its breadth wide and never-ending,
In it lay my heart,
Never needing tending.
Moments of silence,
The wind in my ears,
The desert breathing fire.
If I could I recall,
That gentle, sun beaten wind,
Then in that desert I would see,
The place where my soul could mend,
In that place where God rest his head,
Where lay the forgotten dead,
Beyond the reach of Mnemosyne,
In a landscape that has no memory.
However my soul cannot hear,
Nor can my eyes shed a single tear,
For that land that’s my delight,
That scorched, sun swept paradise,
That land that calls me in the night,
Speaks in a voice I do not recognize.
It was the rulers, who sacrificed their souls,
To bring about something twisted and perverse,
So the city did expand and swallow the desert whole,
And here I thought, it was meant to be the reverse.