The fantasy returns me to
an air conditioned tomb
how I’ve come to understand
the comforts of a room
of one’s own
Really I’m here
in this hell of sand
there’s no choice
no helping hand
we think we can go anywhere
but this world has murder to spare
for one alone
Dreams of water dreams of ice
in my fractured mind
this shallow grave
becomes a paradise
Surely it can’t last more
than another day
As I remember how
to wait and how to pray
And even in this hell
there is living in the one day
just like any resting stone
what
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