A desert waste so hot and ablaze
The sun beats down where a blanched skull lays.

Though no expression is left in its face
The eyes show the pain of a long dead race.

Compassion, patience, love and understanding
Seen through the eyes of a dreamer unending.

The vultures of the world have picked it clean
But the eyes, which remain, see a distant dream.

A time when love, exhausted by war
On the sands of this waste land will stagger no more.

And the blade in his heart is removed from its sheath
And the love is replenished from the springs there beneath.

Surely-no one can give and expect to receive
From a desert so bleak and devoid of a breeze.

Yet the hope still lives in the eyes of this skull
As again night falls and the light grows dull.

But soon there will dawn an everlasting day
The ground will grow fertile where his body now lay.

The life will return, even rain will fall
And mutual love will be shared by all.

The wicked are gone and with them life’s pains
A promise fulfilled is all that remains

Such is the day in the death of a desert dreamer.