Sand and Stones

A desert lies before,

And a shadow voyages along.

The piercing sun burns above,

And the grating sand chafts below,

As the wind beats ferociously across the hills,

And bombards indiscriminately along the path,

The sea of sand becomes a grave.

The green long since devoured by the gaunt ocean,

Ancient bones sink quietly below its dry waves,

As the ever shifting landscape promises no calm,

It births forth the moon and sucks in the harsh light.

Along with the moon falls a blanket,

A blanket that cloaks a being,

Born of ice and emptiness.

All it touches freezes and breaks.

Whatever survives the unforgiving day,

Enters into the unending night,

Nevermore seen.

The chill climbs the shadow,

Whom grows weary.

Drained of water and of warmth,

The figure comes to a halt under the moon but above the sun,

There alone in the dark he lights his last match.

As the sparks fly from the head,

It unmasks another figure in the dark.

There with the shadow stands another.

Still but strong, it was a testament.

Beneath the sandy veil,

4 uneven and jagged stones awkwardly stood atop each other.

The shadow drew a dagger and danced it across his hand.

And he painted the stones with the thick ink.

He then wrapped the wound and pressed on.

The sun soon rose and dried the ichor,

And time passed over the desert.

The sands shifted and sank the hills and valleys,

Nothing remained the same.

But even as the valley forgot,

The stones never did,

Although crafted in pain,

It stood in life,

As a memory,

One that would never fade.

Author's Note

Trying to convey an image and feeling. Will definitely keep working on this and one day make it juuust right. Let me know how you like it!