Sahara Noir

 

  I have stood Barefoot in the sun 

Wading through the blushing shallows

In the  Oasis of the Ahaggar Mountains.

My chest is hard and brown.

I have collected the tears Of the Boswellia Sacra 

as they mourn the early Dawn Sun.

I have intoxicated my self,

Consuming the hot molten rum of Dates And Myrrh.

And carelessly wandered off 

In the Perils of the blistering sun.

At nighttime, 

When the moon casts its heavy cool glow

The Ancient Temples burn away the tears

A hot languid incense steams

From the burning sands 

showing you the way. 


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