Breathing in the same heat, ageless and tired, nothing fresh to offer except for the stale grain. This heat living inside others but their faces are blank, stale and robbed of hope. Ears ringing with the same answer, same response, same wishes all from the parched mouths of these breathers. Looking into dirt has more truth than you could ever tell. They slither closer, scarred scales beating down the desperate dirt, always thirsting for relief. Come now, can't you bare your ****** neck once more? Feel teh unrelenting burn as you feed me false venom. Awaiting the light, I sit in this heat. Keeping my straight face so I can't be brought to the shallow state. I wonder.

*Is it the same light the parched already await?