Sprinkled star dust on my feet
from the dessert windy beat
sun shining relentlessly and bright
my skin a thousand stars sitting tight.

Flustered, nowhere a drink to spare
just the dry non forgiving air
melting away non forgiving weight
as to merciless vultures bait.

Just being barely now a bag of bones
not surrendering to any of the drones
crawling through sand of milk and honey
in an old rugged barely woven gunny.

One last bullet in the fear forsaken gun
lizards and scorpions in front of me having fun
hearing foot steps on the marching order
forwarding steadily towards the deadly border.

One more weakened look towards the inferno
One more imagined taste of ice cold Pernod
One more thought of when the order came
One more time holding up M9 and bang!