Arrival at the Turning Point
Location
Stretched in all directions,
a reflection of where you stand.
Left in, to fend with no defense,
horizons end is arid sand.
Tongue is numbed, a dry sponge
in your mouth on which you choke.
Carry on through dehydration,
lack of salivation, but not lose hope.
Chase the mirage you know to be,
what have you else to cling?
The disparage bites at your heels,
press the search for anything.
Not superstitious, but an apparition
appears and offers a drink.
Addictive, this liquid will not parch,
but lie and make you think.
Frantically grasp the glass,
not a question asked at all.
So thirsty, very thirsty
Not even tears nor sweat may fall.
Every sip begs for another,
but alas! You gasp for air.
The cup still full, taunts "had your fill?"
And your thirst you cannot bear.