Beneath a sky of muted gold,

Where time has slipped through cracks unfold

There lies a place of sand and doors,

A hollow echo of ancient shores.

Wind-carved whispers haunt the air,

Through broken halls, stripped cold and bare.

Doors afar, but bone to greet,

Sand creeping soft beneath my feet.

Pillars lean, their bones decayed,

Ghosts of grandeur now betrayed.

Curtains of dust in muted light,

Flicker, than vanish into night.

Footprints from and fade away,

Guided by ghosts that dare not stay

Sift grains rise beneath my hand,

A trembling breath-the pulse of sand.

Doors creak wide with hollow moans,

The sound of shifting, buried stones,

Steps echo faint, a shallow hum,

As if the past still calls, “Come.”

I tough the fame of splintered wood,

It sighs beneath me, understood.

No locks to break, no keys to find-

Only silence etched in mind.

A rusted key upon the floor,

Grains of sands beneath the door.

I lift it up; the air turns thin-

Does this door lock out or in?

Walls breathe shadows, dark and deep,

As grains of sands beneath begin to seep.

Through open cracks, the desert sighs,

Beneath the weight of hollow skies.

I step beyond-no turning back

My footprints swallowed in the track.

And as the sands reclaim their own,

I’m lost-forgotten, overthrown.

Yet still the doors stand open wide,

Inviting ghosts from either side.

A quiet hum beneath the land,

Forever lost…beneath the sand. -by Asianna Frierson