Tiny Shards of Glass

The sand makes a soft thudding noise as I cross this faceless plain, I feel like it's been years now, a forlorn thought to match each grain. My compass long deserted, for direction's never right, Perhaps I acted heedlessly, alas it kept fortuity in sight. Tumbleweeds passing by now, full of purpose, a place to go, A silent symphony slowly softens, sounds all too well I know. The most rudimentary desert creatures finding shelter from the sun, I’m searching for contentment, this barren wasteland offers none. Mirages have all faded, exposing sand to be just sand, Even lost and lonely, my movements seem unplanned. Water would sustain me, suppress oppressing heat, Not sure that I would drink it, having accepted my defeat. Eyes return to focus, unveiling reality lacking plan, A tattered plane upon the sunset, still circling to land. The desert only in my mind, yet sand so very real, An hourglass stands empty, reflecting all I feel.