Deserted
Suzhou Singapre International School, Andrew Chen, Poetry: Group 3
Following the footsteps of the Silk Road.
Traders of past, struggle and strife.
Towering dunes, like water, sand flowed.
Thieves, cheats: under silver moonlight.
Confidence, the darkness that covers fears.
Provides a veil of sheer concealment.
Venture onward, with not a thought of concern.
“We are not lost” they cheer, they cheer.
Strong willed, yet unwilling to learn.
Buried deeper with each naive step.
Valor protects none from fate.
Surrounded by the expanse of the night.
Daring masks muffle underlying distress.
Settle your alarm, relief is fast approaching.
Destined to feel the Gobi’s deathly caress.
Accept the knowledge of where fate is to carry you.
The tongue produces only the absurd cry of the lost.
Maddened, they all will fall.
Where does guilt lie in the final hour.
They ask, as if they still retain an ounce of innocence.
All driving purpose turns sour.
Gone is direction, gone is all sense.
What path is there left to follow.
On the footsteps of the Silk Road.
