Under the Saffron Sun
by Alexander Hudluman
Under the Saffron sun, to the east and west
amidst its brilliance.
A pair of unlikely sun burnt eyes strained forth.
Played upon by the endless mirage trickery.
Misery was surely the desert’s dealing with the devil.
Suffering was its voice and the land told a tale of a hellish wasteland.
Littered with ornamental bones to laugh at the next unsuspecting man.
Death provided the over watch to the many things that didn’t necessarily survive.
Undeterred by other’s heed to the desert’s hostilities.
The man had dug his own grave.