sands of your thoughts
warmed by the sun
desert emptiness
bring forth your light
whisper, a gentle plea
strong was the force that pursued them
seemingly weak beings
lost before starting
prayed to their gods
unanswered, forgotten
left on the shallows of despair
last rally of strength
taken from the depths
of their alien being
faced an unknown enemy
strong with great hope
cruelly crushed
not comprehending their fate
but lived while they did
and died not knowing
From – Pain is Time
ponart
Copyright 1974
Patrick M. O’Neil
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