It’s a long march across this fated desert
No paved path across shifting dunes
Only shaky legs to pull us across the distance
No flat hoofs to rid us of these sinking steps...
..We feel alien to this path- Fated to its hidden tracks
This crooked trail that shrivels giants
Nourishes clinging shadows-
No serpentine glide across scorching sands
Only blistered feat and a shambling gait,
It's no wonder we fumble with the weight of the sun upon bent backs
On dune laden paths through shifting days
Lead -lost -on an endless leash
Pulled in by consuming mirages
Tethered by bouts of misplaced hope,
We flounder through the endless sand...
...Drown under waves of heat, relentless-
Sinking deeper into this crooked path
On crooked legs.
Copyright © Samir Georges