Winds of Anger

[rhymeguy]

 
The hot winds of anger
blow across the frigid landscape.
Leaving only a desert
where flowers once grew.
 
Gone are the mighty oaks.
Gone are the gentle lilies.
Gone, the song birds
and the soaring eagles.
 
Deserted oasis;
poisoned waters;
parched bones
of the errant nomads.
 
Shimmers of promise,
mirages of hope,
proven elusive
on the arid horizon.
 
Travelers beware.
Drink not too deeply.
What seems sweet to the tongue
may sour in the belly.