Stretching out before me,
The desert of contrition.
A justice for the cold of heart,
With all their bad decisions.
No sun to scorch the tundra,
Nor to bleach you from my mind.
Only a fading, empty landscape,
Where you leave all hope behind.
Walking on before me,
Those whose path I follow,
For having wandered from my own,
Into the waiting arms of sorrow.
No landmarks, only dark horizons,
No oasis to water down my pain.
Only a shadow of a used to be,
Turned to sand, by desert rain