A figure, walking through the desert
The sun, blazing its horrific light
Scorching the once lushful paradise
It's view is not a magnificent sight
The sand, burning his swollen feet
No rest nor shade to his surprise
He might as well submit defeat.
His last moment, in the desert


He walked aimlessly, hoping for shade
All he sees is death being made
Vultures flew by, circling around the territory
Dead corpse of animals, seen resting around him


Starvation is among him
Vultures wanting a limb
He kept walking
Avoiding the prey
But they kept stalking
They're ready if they may

He thought all hope is lost
Until he saw what he thought it was
An oasis, yes an oasis
He cried in joy in what he saw
He ran and ran with his eyes fixed and glossed
He came up to it and drank what he loves
The thing of life that is needed on a basis
After all that, he became still
The vultures caw
They went to attack

Laying on the desert floor
A man who has been dehydrated
What he thought he saw
Was not what it was
An illusion from the dark sun
Playing its tricks to doomed living beings
The vultures pecking his motionless body
His mouth filled with sand scorching his insides
The man, lived his last moment, in the desert

I never knew you wrote poems....maybe you did tell me, and I forgot that. Anyways wonderful poem bec.