Mirage

My life is an oasis of dust
stretching out before my mind
Dune
after dune
after dune
of dreary dryness.
Nothing stirs
except the memories at my feet
trampled into watery oblivion.
My blistered feet
soak up the corrugated sludge
while I watch
and wait
without wincing.

Tiny tendrils of gangrenous growth
grip my festering flesh and feed
relentlessly reaching upward
devouring voraciously
my dead meat. Soon they will eat
the heart - it does not matter.
The brain is the centre of my pain.
When it ends
it only begins again
Over
and over
and over.
From nothingness to nothingness.
So lies the desert of my mind.

wingsofdeath