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Apr 5
Often travelers who start to thirst
Are greeted by a vision
Perhaps of an oasis
Perhaps maybe even a whole caravan
But although the traveler
May seem so content
His vision tempting his salivation
Throat cracking
The heat beating him down
Bones dried upon the sand
Calling for the lost prayers
From false gods
I don’t know how to cope ****
Written by
Lost in my Head  18/M/Nunya
(18/M/Nunya)   
261
 
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