The Promised Land

The brazen breeze,

and bitter taste.

A thousand grains,

not one a waste.

Heat assaults without reason.

Burning with tears of treason.

The barren stretches will consume,

all who falter in it’s womb.

Blood stained land!

By an act of man,

or by the devils hand?

Flesh of my flesh.

Fused together we mesh,

Blood of my blood.

With bone, stick and mud.

The death toll as high,

As our hopes are nigh.

We will not make it through the night.

But this land cares nothing for our plight.

6 thoughts on “The Promised Land

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