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(Poem) Eidelons - III

III.

My happiness drains from me (what little I had)
and I am a parched sponge

The fierce sunlight
is an oven I cannot escape

Airborne dust leaves
fine red welts
stinging

The desert is scarcely home
but I can find no other

The sun is no friend
but I can find no more faithful companion

The winds of change hold no comfort
(Only pain)
But behind them

whispers Hope.

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