Sahara

11 4 6
                                    

Heat and sand, sand and heat

and more of the same forever

or so it seems to a traveler lost

without hope of rescue ever.

Hot by day, cold by night

the misery's unending

trapped beneath a desert sky

whose harshness is unbending.

Sculpted dunes, whispering sand

the scorpion's sting is deadly

the singing of the scirocco wind

a torturous, hellish medley. 

Wave upon wave, crests of gold

the sands a thirsty ocean

numberless are the grains of sand

perpetually in motion.


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