You rush past me as though you were the wind—
Already leaving for another place,
And desert dust now scours away my skin.
I hide so flying grit won’t sting my face,
As I am left in swirling veils of sand.
I fall with nothing but earth to embrace.
But somehow, I must find the strength to stand;
To live despite this storm that’s brought no rain;
To travel in this parched and arid land.
A nomad of this desert I remain,
While you have moved onto a realm more fair.
Although you are the one who caused my pain—
I should have never loved a man of air.
