The desert madman.

Bleeding desert sun,
sea of white sand.
A man lives,
In a rock cave,
Has a long beard,
Speaks.
"Beware crazy people dwell here".
He has a bone in his hand.
"Beware for the sun".
He has no clothes.
"Beware for the water".
Blood dripping from his lips.
"I am not a man".
Crazy man.
"I am a leaf"
There are no trees.
"The wind has no purpose"
Where is this place?
"You tell me".
I awake.

 

I liked what you put down here, reminds me of one of my poems, good work

 

very nice.
I wrote a poem about an old artist dying in the desert, a long time ago.

a shiny light,​

something to bite ​

before he imbibes all the small vials​

of primary paints​

and black ​

runs down the mouth​

of a desert.​

crawled​

through all the prickly chins . . ​

coming to a shady end ​

 

That poem is pretty cewl stalk

 

as is yours. I dig your style.