Wind blows Sand

The wind whips through the sky
Leaves take flight and launch into the air
The tears are blown from my eye
The scent is fresh, not at all like musk
Dry like a desert, the worm is in his lair
The beast is alive, power is lust
This path will end some day soon
The wanderer passes, the villagers glare
Spread before us can be seen as doom
The pain of loss is evident
In the faces of everyone
Nothing but torment
And promise of oblivion
With no guarantees
For even that
An emptiness transforms the moment
Of nothing in particular
Into dread