The world is a desert exclaiming that “I need water”-
Roots reaching out, desperate, only for the water to be dried by the sun’s slaughter-
Burned away into vapor before a chance to enjoy a sip, even one-
The sun exclaims “you don’t need it, you are mine”-
As the vapor ascends, disappears, the sun scorches the mind-
Insanity creeps in if your shriveled body has a brain-
Dreaming of water or vapor or anything it’s all the same-
Oppressed by the fire watching from on high-
Snuffing out refreshment if it meets his eye-
You dare not creep, search, or mine-
Fear of burning away the precious find-
Draw no attention, stay in your place-
But deep in your roots you know your are soon to waste-
You search the skies for maybe a cloud-
But none in site, nothing around-
Just burning, scorch, and sear-
Pray my child, pray for anywhere but here-
The tree is gone-
The sun burned it away-
It charred husk is all that remains-
But my my what is this?
The desert wind blows and seed is picked away with a kiss-
Carried far on winds like the grains of sand-
Away from the glare of the sun and the damnedable land-
Coming to rest in grass to sweet-
Near brooks so clear and gardens neat-
Growing tall, strong, and straight-
Branches outstretched with blooms so great-
Children play underneath your shade-
Prayers answered in the spirits own way-