Wasteland
The world above is cloudless,
And the sun is oh so high.
Blistering with fire's touch,
The land below is dry.
…
But lo, the sound of thunder.
The flash of lightning grand.
Will the heavens give refreshment,
Upon the desert sands?
…
Alas, the clouds don't open,
The ground bellow's unmarked.
The sun continues shining,
Casting shadows stark.
…
In death remains the desert,
In death the ruins grand.
Through death walks the traveller,
Across the desert sands.