Where horizons blur and blend,
Dryness reigns supreme—
A parched tongue, what stays untold,
Land cracked, a void of thirst.
Grains of sand dance upon the gusts,
Kissing the cheeks of the weary,
Leaving arid dreams behind,
A mask of desolation worn with quiet pride,
Behind it, stories of endurance and time.
Isolation, that ever-present spectre,
Casts long, lingering shadows, a cloak of solitude,
Echoing in the vast, hollow canyons
Of a heart’s distant, muted drumbeat.
In the silence, no voice, no touch, no refuge,
Only the repetitive cry of this desert’s bird,
Piercing the vast void,
Repetition, a mantra, a cycle of existence,
Echoing soil, touching the light.
Endless dunes, waves of an ocean dry,
Rise and fall to nature’s bass,
A testament to time’s relentless march and sway,
Searing heat, forge of determination,
Every grain, every whisper, every mirage,
Speaking of desolation’s unyielding grip.
Exhaustion, a heavy, omnipresent cloak,
Drapes over brittle, sun-beaten stones,
The weight of eons, memories buried and lost,
Sinking footsteps into the ever-shifting sands,
An ode to resilience, endurance, tenacity of life.
Yet, amidst this kingdom of drought and silence,
Beneath the weight of relentless sun and sky,
There lies a stoic beauty, a profound resilience,
A testament to will, in the heart of aridity.
Poem by Manolis D. Lemos