From sands I arise,
to the faded skies over,
these hardened eyes,
and overexposure.
The bone-dry plains,
and arid weather,
have crackled my skin.
this sun-baked nether.
Drain on morale,
and eroder of soul,
nothing left now,
so I dig my last hole.
the yellow-white sea,
it stretches on.
it thirsts for me.
I am--long gone.