Death lain to my horse,
Desert stranded slay,
Sweat rolling from me cursed
She who led my thirst astray

Mirages paint the land,
I believe them drops of dew,
Self lies trace the sand,
Is dryness that be true,

My legs waver beneath me,
Windless waves tilt a fall,
To my knees so I buckle,
Fleeting strength now a crawl,

Weakened neck droops in awe,
Dreams escape darkened sight,
Tears steal last drops in wake,
Wetting ground where lost my fight,

Breath slows in air around me,
Cool touch shoulders upon my back,
A soft howl swirls by fallen night,
With a deafening thunderous crack,

I gaze to cumulus whites above,
Doubts my eyes have now saw,
'Till laughter spills over coarse face,
Miracles can and do befall.