Right there – right then,
In the middle of nowhere,
No hopes to hold on,
Throats parched – crying for rain,
Hearts beating with a thousand wants…
Down we sank, upon the dying sand –
Just the wind – and us,
Dwelling upon memories… short, sweet,
Days when time would fly along…
The sun it send its flashes white,
Emptying the mind of all thought,
Magnifying – in the desert sand,
The glory with which it reigned on.
Trembling fingers, trembling lips,
Words left unspoken upon the threshold of thought,
So much to say – so much – all lost,
Far away in the desert storm.
That was when the eyes they met,
A moment’s glance – held too long,
And as the wind swept me off my feet,
She smiled gently –
My dying song.
Dying Song by Saunved Mutalik