Philosophy, Poem, Poetry


Searching winds blow heavy,
This land withered and broken.
Wandering gazes find,
Empty eyes and emptier hearts.
The desert heat scorches,
Sears and burns the skin,
Of the nomads and the drifters.
The bright yellow sky laughs,
And sprinkles drops of fire below,
The living corpses burn,
And the stench lingers still,
As the searching winds blow heavy,
Never stopping, never waiting,
At this land withered and broken…


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