Gathering Desert Doom
Gathering darkness lies in the desert dead
Breathe the doom. Black birds will follow
Few things grow in the wasteland
Roses spring into action into April reds
Bloodied with their thorns along the edge
Nourished by rich soil from the plains
Cruel at best are their chances for survival
Where the bio changes divergent from wet to dry
At war with life and forces that came before
Dawn wakes with yellow birds escaping
Still tethered to the Earth which holds
All accountable to their task biological
To forces higher than the sky
There is a warning at the desert entrance
Water is absent as a Christmas gift or kiss
Thirst would hang you from a tree but alas
Wood and rope are scarce in the badlands
-What is missing-
The desert grows out by the mile
Wider by the dunes as their child
Into cities like granular specters
Tiny specs stretched, extended on the wind
Into marches, into riots. Into you life flows
Sand has no life beyond dry dead heat
At best it enters the eyes and covers bones
Gathering desert doom alone
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