Hades screams its torrid winds,
Scorching earth of bone and skin.
Desolate ground of sun bleached sand,
Reminiscent of lunar land.
~
Scrub brush torn from shallow root,
Crushed to dust while under foot.
Watching step for danger lurks,
From thorn and fang and stingers work.
~
Blistering flesh under cloudless sky,
Waterless fools most surely die.
So this goes for man and beast,
It matters not be most or least.
~
Call of hawk and vulture above,
No place for cardinal, sparrow or dove.
Unforgiving this land it takes,
Seizing on each and every mistake.
~
Birds of prey circle and wait,
For nature to inflict a certain fate.
A hearty meal in barren land,
Relying on the feast at hand.
~
Wasteland though it seems to be,
There’s so much more than the eye can see.
It’s beauty lies not in pleasing flowers,
Nor in forests where great pine trees tower.
~
Instead it lies in stark contrast,
To seashores blue landscape so vast.
Inhospitable appearance its enduring charm,
In spite of all potential harm.
~
~~ Dominic R. DiFrancesco ~~