The Port Lincoln with a headed green
reminds of all the vanished love songs
tires of doom and cages of hope
some days the rawness cascaded
burning my sole with remnant matters
in a lovely world where we aspired
with fixed attires that truly perspired

At the heart of this desert bloom
where nothingness claims attention
at the hand of the sunken gloomy sun
which prevails the dry land it scorches
unveiling all the buried emotional cases
of utter regret and unknown possibilities

At the heart of the desert bloom
where the rain fades inside the sandy dunes
casting the breeze to the barren land
with unconcern perils and derailment
unveiling all the buried emotional cases
of utter regret and unknown possibilities

At the heart of a desert bloom
on the silvery aligned amber bridge
overlooking the stratified red rocks
where guanos and snakes rest and arrest
appeasing and hissing the untold secrets

At the heart of the desert bloom
on a mounted grill of unmovable waters
lying meters deep, overlaid by the patch
patterned with blackness and debris
as a heavenly breeze whispers of beginnings

At the heart of the desert bloom
where the past was long laid and cast
painted at the end of a two year past
of prolific and demonic disengagement
on passageways where all there is moves on