the desert is where i am,
i have returned to the foreign land.
overstepped my boundries,
to worship the-
hold the thought.
excuse my ill manners.
i lie on the hot grounds,
i attempt to purge the means of transportation that brought me here.
a vile concotion left to rot inside me.
i try to set it free,
but it wont escape.
the pullling anguish in my gut,
providing some sort of sick comfort.
its will to stay is respected,
i will lay in anguish with you on the hot desert floor.
a love so masochistic.
strangely at peace with the outside land.
i know i will return home again.
the desert exists within.
try to escape,
youll never be far.
the fog will dissipate and youll be relieved to be home,
but never forget,
the desert will always subconsiously roam.