Fake gold swirls on this desert floor.
The ashes of my care free innocence
Are running through my pessimistic hands.
It sticks under these rusty finger nails.
Like your last goodbyes,
They leave me with a cynical grin.

"Come for me I dare you!"

My brash wish was under your command,
As my hoarse throat neighed
Questing for relief,
Water,
Anything,
I beg you.
Maybe this request really wasn't mine to offer
My aged eyes roll back
To the games of dice I played as a kid,
Tossing what little worries I had away
As I became
A part of
The sand.