• One man,
    eyes tearing,
    heart pounding,
    under the hot sun.

    Seeing red,
    The metal flies
    that buzz angrily around him,
    stinging him,
    their bite of pestilence,
    promising a dark end to a whiter than bright day.

    He looks to the sky.
    Like an ocean needing a raft,
    as his broken eyes wander the wasted lands,
    and he lies in the crimson sand.