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My sight shall reach past the ruthless dunes
A solitary raven as my sole mate
Whose intentions towards me
I allow myself to doubt
As everyone here is by their own
Small unfortunate seeds champion
Against an unwilling stormy climate
Where venomous predators luxuriate
I therefore brace myself
While I have my last sip
I’ve been on many traveling caravans
With experienced and spirited folks
We kept our eyes vigilant
For danger preys each turn
I can’t afford to let them down
I am now one in this vast wasteland
My leather boots burn my weary feet
Meditating my next crucial move
Disdaining the liquid salt on my eyebrows
My intentions will prevail
