Among the whispering stones
And the whistling sands
A never-ending sea of barren lands
Interspersed with shining heaps of bones
A solitary hawk's cry
In the glowing embers of the sky
The occasional hiss and rattle
In the burning sands below
A somber world you might say..
Some might feel it a curse
To be existing in this living hell
Isn't this land the mediate hearse
A secure ride to the netherworld's well
In this hellish place you may ask
Who in their right minds would bask
Is it a life worth living you may feel
You may make a spiel
But have you forgotten
To actually have a thought so misbegotten
The truth that was and is, That this was to begin with
A place where living be the greatest joy that can be construed
For as long there be life, there'd be hope
So, pack up your meaningless rants of gloom and solitude
Just tuck your belt and set out to cope
©shadownik
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