The Desert Moon

I stand under the desert moon;
among the shifting sands of emotions,
the constantly changing landscape.

Why do the stars burn so brightly?
why does the laughing moon fail
to light up my barren, desolate heartscape.

All those footprints on my heart,
those familiar, well-trodden bridges,
washed away by the deluge of unshed tears.

Love is a mirage, a chimera,
an oasis never to be found,
thus whisper the desert winds.