My sight shall reach past the ruthless dunes
A solitary raven as my sole mate
Whose intentions towards me
I allow myself to doubt
(As everyone here is by their own)

Small unfortunate seeds champion
Against an unwilling stormy climate
Where venomous predators luxuriate
I therefore brace myself
While I have my last sip

I’ve been on many traveling caravans
With experienced and spirited folks
We kept our eyes vigilant
For danger preys each turn
(I can’t afford to let them down)

I am now one in this vast wasteland
My leather boots burn my weary feet
Meditating my next crucial move
Disdaining the liquid salt on my eyebrows
(My intentions will prevail)