Coming Home

Crawling across a barren, blackened landscape.
(Searching, searching for something...)
Slivers of stone, ranging
From the size of a human child's fingernail
To the size of a small condominium
Push their way up through the arid soil
(So dry, so very dry)
Like a forgotten people,
Reaching out to their fallen god.

(The powers that be
Have forsaken me.
They left me to die.
Won't they be surprised.
I'm coming back.
I'm coming back.)

The red sun beats down,
Creating shadows on the scorched earth.
(They create shadows...shadows that follow me, hungering)
The red suns beats me and ravages me.
My skin is like leather.
My eyes feel like sand.
My tongue like sandpaper in my mouth.
My body not much more than a dried husk.
But still I move forward,
One foot before the other,
Always searching...and someday I will find...

(The powers that be
Have forsaken me.
They left me to die.
Won't they be surprised.
I'm coming back.
I'm coming back.)
- composed 12/15/2001