Howling storms, engulf your senses.
Pores rammed with sand.
Dust pierce your eyes, invade your skin,
Where am i in this barren land.
An ocean, waves crashin at pitiful sojourners.
But it's dry nonetheless.
Searching for drops of oasis,
But you only have grains of sand.
But it is not impossible, this quest for it,
the mighty God's breath.
It is your escape, most of the time,
when faced with certain death.
It always seemed to save you,
annihlates your senses of grudge.
But is it really there?
Or is it just a mirage.
It disappears in the end.
You reach out to grab it.
It slips out of your clutches,
flows through your fingers.
Your blood stained, tattered hands
are useless when it.. no all the time.
It engulfs you at the most unpredictable of times.
But slips through your fingers when u want it.
Where is the ark? to get me out of this Hell?
Alas it arrives. Judas' ark.
