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WanderingMonster

Sandstorm

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The dust rises, the wild
gold shards swirling like long gone
weathered away glass.
I wonder if the sand will bury me
in shifting dunes
and this will be the last glimpse
I'll get of the sky. 


Then the gusts strengthen and it's too late
to run away. I will be stripped bare
of my body and my bones will rust
under the endless brush of time.
The light's gone now, leaving everything dull and
the sun shines dim as the moon.
Soon no one will remember I ever stood here
at the end of the world, the heart of a sandstorm.

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