Empty

devoid of humanity, the desert's got a wish; the desert's got a secret he doesn't need our teeth when the piranhas are nicer than us; when the megalodon is more gentle than us there's a gray water-less fog only he can see while the others are known for their sunlight but for him, there's something in the air that causes ultraviolet extinction and now there's only his mental creation of reality mirages and not, with no distinction the sand is violet, with a blood red moat the spines of the cacti build his back-- their points dulled down from lack of use he makes the world, but the visitors that come only skim the edges to do nothing but flash their lights-- to capture his thin top layer there's something deeper all life evolved from the ocean and he was separated from Pangaea he saw it with his own eyes everything