A Man Who Once Was

In the heat of the scorching day my mind wanders,

Flirting with a non-existent

Realm of being.

I am

Lawrence of Arabia,

The Sheikh of Araby,

Count László Almásy,

And Rudolph Valentino

All combined gloriously into one persona,

Surrounded by dunes, constructed towers

Of windswept sand amidst penetrating rays

Of eclipsed, non-filtered, bright, luminescent,

Scorching sunlight.

Sweat rolls in an overwhelming abundance

Of waves, rivulets infused with the dirt, the grime

Of mortal sin –

It moves, rippling across arching, aching muscles

Housed beneath a multitude of layers – and lies.

My mouth thirsts for more than mere water

Amidst the brutality found in nonending

Dunes of sand whilst I search for an oasis,

Seek shelter from the sweltering, oppressive heat

And infiltrating sand particles of resounding judgement.

I am alone, swept up and lost in a tumultuous storm,

Only an echo of a man who once existed,

My memory skirting my very life and breath

To traverse the hills of sand until it disappears,

Evaporating in distant ripples of mountainous dunes

Stretching as far as the eye can behold.

I am lost,

A vision of a man

Who once was.