Like wavering sand dunes
Spent by an evening wisp
I too wither
At the drawn lash of time

Entombed desires
Shrivel with great haste
For a defiant tongue
Bars their sly escape

They must fall unknown
Succumb to a bitter rest
Ensnared by a mute hopelessness  
And rusted
With passing age

My truth
Can never be fully known
For unclouded eyes
May title them delusion

(I’m sorry that this isn’t my best)