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 ~~