The fallow field
the desert in my mind
the wind that blows
renders me blind

No crops no life
just dust and weeds
into this barren landscape
my inspiration bleeds

The smell of the inert
lays heavy in the air
amidst the inhospitable
I am chained to a chair

The soil the earth
these misty plains of misconception
microbes of madness mutate
tumbleweed tightens the anticipation

No creatures roam
the rivers dry bed
and as forests die
their screams fill my imploding head

A green pasture oasis
a summer rainfall to tease the synapses
right before my tired eyes
the hallucination perfectly collapses

The fallow field
the vastness within
no sooner does it end
then it starts to begin