Desert Deserted

I found myself alone this morning,

Deserted by the desert that held me so warmly,
Replaced by the steel skeleton,
Robbed from the earthen grave,
Resurrected as a monument to men’s pride.
Millions of glass eyes stare out at me,
Pushing me away with their gazes.
The city’s ceiling of smog,
Locks me away from the sun’s watchful eye,
Just as the individual cells of urabn-life,
Live by proxy,
Watered down catharsis and the secrets of the universe,
All received in thirty minute doses.
When the promise of night crashes down on our concrete cages,
I can feel violent walls pushing me farther down and away,
Leading me along the darkened staircase,
That human sight has long since abandoned.
I find my dungeon of solitude invaded by blind souls,
Abandoned by their Mothers just as I was,
Screaming out with silent gasps to have someone hold them.
Their sandy scent has been purged by sterility,
Mental and physical.
The chimeric mass of bodies reminds me that my Mother abandoned me,
Not out of any hardness of soul,
But from self-preservation.
The final shades of nothing-time crawl over the windows,
And I am alone once again,
Surrounded by the anxious breath of used-to-be-humanity.
We are all waiting for the warm-love of the desert,
In the subtle form of wind to come,
As we stare out of where the window should be,
As my sight starts to fade.
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