I recalled it was sabulous
The song he was singing
In that desertic evening
The air was dry, and hot
The fossil dunes, we were sitting beside
Were carved and re-carved
Shaped and re-shaped
By the wind
Blowing reckless and strong
As if imperfection was never an option
The camels were still chewing
The little grains left behind
In their dirty feeders
A Beduin stopped by
And looking at the sun
Setting in the horizon
Gave a mysterious smile
Leaning onto a dune
I was sitting beside him
Engulfing to the song
He was singing
Looking at the sun
Orange and bright
It was a windy yet silent evening...
And the air wasn't at all smelling
I wished to hold a fistful of sand
For ever...
Remembered I was sad and happy together
That evening was a story
A story which was told and written, yet
Stayed un-heard, un-seen or un-spoken...
It was a windy and silent story.
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