Simpleton

The sands fall far from the storm and the buried lay beneath

I walk along this desert.
I drown in my thirst.
the need to understand dries my throat

unable to call for help
the saliva sticks
disgust follows

the dry horrid wasteland seems everlasting
this death march
is ever a fitting end

the squawks and tweets from savvy vultures
await my death

to use it as their means

but what can harm bring more then it's dread?

I lay with out breathe in the harness that is my consciousness
a last withering lifeline keeping me in existence

I hear prayers, I hear liars, I heard lovers.

can't hear hope.
I hear strict reminders of agony and sacrifice.

I hear deeds done for me.

I hear respect.

I can't hear my heart beat

for what hope can men bring to a torn and withered dystopia bound by standard not kept by the vultures whom set them.