The land is scorched, it lays bare.
Now become a blood red dust.
It's blown by wind, everywhere.
A strength corroded, turned to rust.

Where once was love, now is hate.
I am defeated, a wearing toil.
The land, I feel It's mortal state.
Burnt and parched, infertile soil.

My blood and tears are all spent.
Forsaken, in my thoughts and fear.
Tis cooler now, the sun has set.
No clouds nor rain we've seen this year.