The deserts silence held ancient whispers Ones that carved themselves through the air They swept through the wind and ruffled the sand

The desert speaks through its dry ground Tremors of voices, a peculiar sound It tells a story, one so grand It confirms mysterious beneath the sand

If only we could listen to the song Instead of lyrics on a wall If only we could hear The song of the desert, so far yet near

You are not the boy I fell for. The boy i fell for would never have done that. The thought wouldn’t have ever crossed his lonely mind. I don’t know who you are but you really aren’t the one I hoped for. All the stars I wished on for you are wasted. And the river of tears that have fallen from my empty eyes can all go down the drain pipe. As well as the many sobs, screams and sleepless nights

The desert’s silence held ancient whispers that were barely heard By those who got there, going through the desert Walking slowly, breathing heavily, barely able to just function Collapses to the sandy ground On his knees and hands, trembling, struggling to move Panthing, sweating, crying from the intense heat That the desert was squandering him with He dropped himself to the ground, feeling the sandy surface and the wind passing by Feeling as if the desert is putting him in his place With all the wind, heat, and sand getting in the way He felt clueless and tired Not able to do anything or know what to do Other than lie there, stuck in the desert Until, before he got in an unconscious state, he saw a blur A blur coming closer, and closer, and closer, and closer And when it got to the man, it was just a tumbleweed with a plastic bag on it He felt that he did not know who he was Who he is Who he wants to be He just does not know much about where he is and where he wants to go As he lies there, covered by the desert Now hidden by the desert Lost and left behind

Your footprints, lost traveler, are no longer yours. They belong now to the deep of my dry heart, A remembrance of your courage, A prove of my love.

Your story, lost traveler, it’s so similar to mine, I could recite its ending like a poem And, yet, you’re still believing you’re the one To change history.

Your tears, lost traveler, open gates in time Through ancient ages, I collect them all! For I, The Desert, here since earth was born I’ll be tomorrow.

Your blood and bones, lost traveler, are mine You’re now a part of the eternity… Stay here, with me, Lost traveler in time.

The desert held hidden secrets,
Beneath its sands so dry,
A whisper of forgotten winds
That brushed the endless sky.

In dunes of gold and ochre red,
Where sun and shadow play,
The tales of ancient wanderers
In silence gently lay.

Beneath the heat, the scorpions
Would dance in moonlit light,
Guardians of the stories kept
In the solitude of night.

The cactus bloomed in twilight's hush,
A flower soft and rare,
A hint of life in barren lands,
A breath against the air.

And in the stillness, time stood still,
Each grain of sand a key,
Unlocking worlds of dreams and dust
Beyond what eyes can see.

For those who listen to the winds
And feel the earth's embrace,
The desert offers secrets sweet,
A quiet, timeless place.

There are those who wandered me endlessly, And those that searched me aimlessly.

Kings rose and fell amidst my body, And queens cursed my cruelty.

There are cities within and beside, Raised in vanity despite me.

Whipped by the winds, I howl from the wounding.

I am renewed by the sun, Diminished by its reflection.

All that I am is ashes, Deserted by time.

I was alone until they came, Wrapped in gold, With feet that danced And eyes that smiled. They sang together, And prayed the same, Their little ones spoke to me And cherished my name.

I watched them grow, Nursed them in my way, Drawing water from my heart And nourishing each new start. They slept in my shade, And woke to my song, Their age came and went, And left before long.

I am known by many names, But will only ever be What they once called me, ‘Home’.

The desert’s silence held ancient whispers, Endless dunes contain darkest memories, Trapped behind a veil of mist-bound sisters A sand whipped escape of extremities.

Stone faced obelisks guarding cruel secrets, A network of clandestine forgotten, Feet fall oblivious and unfrequent, Voices muted by sands misbegotten.

Fire remains on the backs of travellers, Transporting spices to brighten feasting, Through Her passage to help the scavengers, With covering sand ever increasing.

Her arteries beneath the dune chambers Hold secret treasures of whispered labours.

She’s cold and barren Blinding snow blankets her land It swirls and screams therein The silence takes her hand The desert’s silence held ancient whispers Of times that have elapsed Now I must journey hither And add my own voice to the past

A sinister blow awashes the sand, her howling gale socks me off my feet, searing granuals cling to my glassy eyes, tailoring a new gritty - hot - layer of sclera.

Her desolate palm lifts me up, I rise with the heat, to meet her harsh gaze, beaming on my fast wilting flesh.

She cackles at me like a Jeep. But I'm too high up now to leap.

I was urged to beware her dire exhale. Not to get caught on her breath, preceding the sweap of death. Or so it is echoed in the folktale.

"Be not an imposter, knight or pittiful jester." This warm brown sea is turning red, afterall, they warned you never to pester, the tender mother you tred.

She will destroy all surfaces, Birth vast dune caves with a sneeze.

Empty the shifting lining beneath your feet, and digest you whole.

Feel the sand In between my toes “Are you sure Are you ready?”

No, I’ll never be But my history Is not going to distored Due to myself

Read the hieroglyphics “Tell my story” With the pain And your stains

I tell my epic For my mom My grandma My ancestors

Who couldn’t So with all due respect Stop ignoring hieroglyphics And I hope you’re miserable

Why?

Because you made mine