The twisting lanes thru burning dunes and punishing skies,

Were far and more than we had imagined, we are mere mortals.

Pushing the sand dragged a hundreds, some led, and I followed,

Clutching tight, what I believed was more precious – a beak of water!

on the cliff, gathered some, over a common thought. With them the leader, and in his eyes,

I saw everything that made him a leader; “Almost There!” the one beside him yelled.

Chanting those two words, a kid ran past me, his faith wasn’t shallow.

He ran until the cliff, stopped, looked back at the leaders, disappointed – “where?”

The heat at its peak, and water, not a beak; first, the pregnant women,

Then a dozen more, turned riot. They showed their anger, they showed their pain,

But deep inside I know its fear, to walk and die fast, or to rest and die slow.

Whatever the choice, the outcome is certain, the outcome-the grave end, but is it fair?

“If I had known this, I wouldn’t have come, you bastard!” said an aged man,

Another rushed to strike the leader, he had a knife in his hand; he was caught and chained.

The swords were drawn and the archers one-eyed; the man beside me dropped down.

So did I: why be the cause of a chaos? But could they show us some mercy, the fading hope – a cure?

The leader tied tight his robe, faced the crowd and he spoke,”Those who seek,can never be weak” to erase our fear.

All eyes stared into his blue-eyes, their shrunken brows were thrown back to its place,

He had said, we all will be saved: but that’s a lie, I saw his hands sweat and his knees wobble.

But the people around, filled to the brim, rose again, to walk again clutching the promise – they were near.

I was once a slave, who believed all that my master said, but here I am wild and free,

Yet ruled by a lie, but I won’t stand this hatred. Is this a cunning craft? – To kill with an embrace.

‘what is he hiding?’, his intensions were disguised: liberation never meant the extinction of those with narrowed-

choices. I marched to the traitor, who was now leading my people right into the death’s lair.

half-the-way but to an abrupt stop when i saw the tears sliding down his face,

the robe now drenched, was changing its color, from ivory to a royal purple,now a fiery red.

drops from the knife of the chained man was now soaking the ground with the darkest crimson,

the gods showed thier rage,the wind tossed the sand,the son of the desert had fallen,the earth tore to reveal .

the lost city of gold-the Kingdom of Keorb.

forty years and nine days later, now breathing my last breathe,

told those near my bed “Those who seek,can never be weak for we are almost there!”.