The sun sheds no tears of mercy upon me
for I chose to stand here- upon the dune’s zenith
waiting for the pharaoh to arrive

the grounds below me are decaying
distorting around the imprints 
left by my feet- which too, become
more cracked as these days (weeks) go by

but I know that the pharaoh is near-
my heightened senses say so
I see her phantoms scattered across
the lands, teasing endlessly

in scorching heat, I find her determination
growing stronger as morning moves forth,
a wretched fine burning through all
that dares to stand in the way

when treading through prickly cacti,
I find her tongue tracing
my goosebump-covered skin
discovering fears and weaknesses
then writing ‘em with her language

whilst standing below sun, I see twinkles
of her pure-white smile, blinding
the eyes that cannot handle viewing
such provocative light

I see her in the travelling tumbleweeds
that pass by so often- rolling off towards
an unclear location, their rubbage oasis

but I will choose to wait here, in decrepit places