DESERTS. Will the deserts now bloom In the tear shaped waters shed by dawn Where long reached shadows will graze The silted veins of some muted storm. Let the moths eat the vermin At the heart of tarnished thorn Let the forests retain their magic play With thread woven from the ancient yarn. Builder for the houses of heart Just turned out to be a construct of fraud Collapsed in emotions, hand held motions Searching for the guidance in a jilted start.