Swollen ts creak like an age old mill
Directing thunderous signals to my brain
These calloused feet dissolving, now one with the sand
Beneath me lies a stagnant weir
Returning a distant gaze stands a hallow frame
Time pauses paralyzing the earth
Friction ceases the neglected bearings of life

Mesmerized by dank withered hands
Crippled in desiccated blood
Blistered and disposable...
This wretched costume
Vengeance cast by an unforgiving sun
Solely sheltered by the vultures span
My struggle for survival now cometes with theirs
Who will be the last to stand?

Wilting leaves depart their dying limbs
Thus the soil rejects their union
Accompanied only by skeletal remains but not alone
Senses as clear as an enigma code

Premonition or anticipation, it lies unclear
Absent of warning, their stelth is an art
...growing near

Drawn to me like sharks to blood
Glistening blades part the humid air
Brainwashed and manipulated
They bare no remorse