Dunes of the Sahara cannot muster
the clouds to be generous and
Pour its sorrow-ridden soul
Over the parched lips of the earth.
A hapless and helpless armor of a girl
cannot confide in the heavens
for a shower of tears.
Her eyes stopped feeling,
Her senses now deceive her,
Her thoughts are clouded; her touch is gone,
Her words don’t bear any meaning.
Tears come forth
With pain in the heart.
What do the eyes shed
when there is no tear to fall?
The pleasure of relief does not come
Because the pain remains,
In the sorrow-ridden soul
without a river to run.