Become

I close my weary eyes I quake and tremble The meaning of life losing its hold, Losing its wonder In this magnifying, mystifying Sadness Where is the river, Where is the ocean To drown these sorrows... The dry formations in this barren land stay tall, Pools holding life drying in the dinosaur wasteland I am bones... I am bones sinking in the waterless chalk I keep these eyes shut To hide inside my meditations My ears have grown accustomed to the silence, And sensitive to the drops of tears They dry too quickly, For the sun is against the moisture And all for the fossilization of my soul Where is the river? Where is the ocean... I do not ask with hope- I am too ancient to beg for miracles To dream, yet, too long I have slept I ask on account of who I once was, A land so lush and plentiful See now only the dryest thrive I am bones on the brink of history... The elements have claimed me Life will return elsewhere I am become by the rock and the sun