Deserted Landscape



I face the long, undulating stretch of land,

The hot sun roasting my skin.

My parched throat yearns for water,

My feet wishes for some rest.

I remember the trees, flowers, and leaves back home,

As their fragrance wafted across my face.

The haunting memory of springtime haunt me,

As the lone and level sands stretch far away.

The last line of this poem is from Ozymandias by P.B. Shelly. This poem is for Writing 201: Poetry.


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