The land is cursed—
this desiccated earth
stripped of life and cracking—
the sun, a fire from the sky
the seas and rivers, all run dry.
I can feel the lacking
in the cup You drank of dearth.
And yet I do not thirst.
The land is cursed—
this desiccated earth
stripped of life and cracking—
the sun, a fire from the sky
the seas and rivers, all run dry.
I can feel the lacking
in the cup You drank of dearth.
And yet I do not thirst.