Traversing the Sands

With a gun in my hand Hope on my back I walk on through the sand Surviving my plans Through the rain, loss and cold I bury the mould Everything that I was So deep, all because I lost my levity I found a travesty I lay my back in the sand Questioning the gun in my hand With sight, sound and air I see what I am I hear my only despair I feel the sand in my hair Through deprivation of self I picture my wealth I summon power to breathe I drop my gun and I leave The rain turns to storms in our hands Our coming karma demands It’s only us that have done this We traded our heritage and bliss For the season of our hell