The agony of the desert is felt by no other landscape, no patch of earth.
It is starvation under the overbearing light of God, destitute. The world spins on it's pottery wheel yet the cracks remain,
filled with dust and sand, like an irritated wound. Desert has no companions with which to show it's sorrows, to bring it joy.
It rots and burns under an unforgiving sun until the night falls, and it freezes over,
a body kept alive for another morning, basking in the glory of nothingness.