Sappt.

There was a sandslide
It happened in my mind
It left life with no given shape or time
Abstract in its art with a crooked con artist sign,
it took with it all and left my will blind.
However the sandslide implanted new dreams
Its smooth sandy hand bashing open new scenes
It giggled as it left,
and gave me no means
to act on grand hopes and too-big-for-me dreams.
So now I sit with a sand-ridden will
Burnt to a crisp under the desert night sky
The soil's black and white and the water stays still
It's not use planting, it's suicide to try.