Lost and Found By Her Memory

Hot sand… hills of hot sand; I feel cold, The cold powder through my toes, And the air is quietly travelling its path, A meandering river, it flows. Then, before me, the oasis, the answer to my pain, The answer is a sugary glow. And my hill becomes a dusty road of a single note, That leads to where I go. I walk in the memory of then, I walk along a forgotten path of eyes that stare. I walk inside the pillbox of a broken turret, A broken turret mistaken for care. But then she rescues my all, she throws a rope, And drags me to memories when life was tame, She saves me, she says she remembers, She remembers my lonely cup dancing, my flame.