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Maria Guzvic
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HE WALKED THE DESERT


The mighty desert
Spread before him
An arid wonderland
Where cacti grew

Nothing else survived
Powerful sun rays
Staring down on his neck
Friends were but few

His clothes were torn and tattered
A man of simple means
It began as a single mission
But then the passion flew

Sitting in the scorching heat
His fingers running through sands of time
How much longer did he have
Not very long he knew






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