Last pages of this odyssey
Bring me to a place full of sand
All around, a dessicated ocean
Expanse of bone relics I swear
Are moving when I turn my head

An oasis exists somewhere in these dunes
Well-being rests in my finding it
The very reason for this desert quest
Parallel to the successful hunters
The rivals who make the failure sting.

Creatures claw and they scratch at me
As I breathe in more of the dust
With the occasional choke on foreign ideas
Dominating my mind on this fruitless search
Amongst cactus pricks and rattlesnake bites

But oases are built for desert survival
This waste will win out in the end
When I wither away in unforgiving sun
Never close to living and that’s okay
Oases are but small patches of comfort anyway.