Weeds, that's what they are.
               Walking on weeds and wilted flowers.
Thorns pierce and sear through my cover
                Pricking, tearing and hurting my pride.
Stones, hard and round
                Pelted at me with no mercy at hand.
Did you call for me from across the desert?
                Maybe it's this loneliness that wants to listen to voices.
Have I wandered off too far to find my way back?
                I feel like a destitute, no creed,  no power.
This hot wind rages like a fire, interminable,
                 Ashes to dust to finally oblivion.
No, I've lost far more than I can offer
                 Only memories exist to bind me together
I've given up far too many times to even try
                  Take me Home, I cannot put one more step yonder
Take me Homeward bound, oh swirling wind
                   Just take me Home.