Jan 2020
Sifting through the simmering desert of time,
The golden sand reflects the open sun,
Making this a bright, golden hellscape.
The sun scalds my damp body,
Donating my pale skin a rosy sheen.
I don’t know where I’ve come from, or where I’ve been,
But I know that all I can do is sift further,
And grimace with each step on the scalding sand,
Hoping to leave this golden hell,
And traverse to a green heaven.
The golden sand reflects the open sun,
Making this a bright, golden hellscape.
The sun scalds my damp body,
Donating my pale skin a rosy sheen.
I don’t know where I’ve come from, or where I’ve been,
But I know that all I can do is sift further,
And grimace with each step on the scalding sand,
Hoping to leave this golden hell,
And traverse to a green heaven.
A green heaven would be a forest in this case. This is a bit ironic because in the older puritanical belief, the forest was the home of the devil.
