It lurks in every corner waiting to strike the innocent
Death is the Grim-reaper,
Camel bones litter the floor
Goat heads stick out of me like warning signs,
Dried up plants wither to the ground
Others struggle to survive to prove they are the fittest,
Crashed planes scatter my plains
Bits land here and bits land there,
Wrecked boats cover my dunes
Its quite a mystery how they got there,
I am a dried up ocean ,a graveyard for all that pass me
Unable to survive myself ,lonely and afraid,
No one to talk to, no one to share my thoughts
In sadness I cause havoc, havoc and more havoc
Who am I?
Many scientists believe that there is a wormhole
Between me and the Bermuda triangle ,
There have been to many disappearances
Things that have ended up on the other side of the world,
No humans have been found
But People mourn their friends and family ,
Maybe they were sucked inside the wormhole, time traveling
Or regurgitated on my shores in little pieces,
The wormhole is like secret passages
An ants nest with different chambers leading to the heart ,
My lands have become labs for major research
Poked, prodded, dissected and analysed ,
I bleed internally ,none one knows how much I suffer
No one knows I am alive ,
I have been closed of to the world
Fences and barbed wires snake through my home ,
I feel more like an outcast
None loves me ,
Who am I?
Mongolians explore my landscape
Their eagles swoop and capture their prey,
They use me as a rubbish bin
Throwing bits of bone into my sand,
Hooves pound against me ,running like the wind
Faster and faster they go until they are a blur,
Night falls, laughter fills the air, a fire flickers
Sometimes I wish I could join them, hunting and joking,
