Escape

A forgotten sand glass,

A long emptied half, 

Untumbled since 

Before a memory.

Sands weighed under

Themselves turning stone.

A moment someday perhaps

Too alive to be contained

Will tumble the stagnate,

Cracking the standstill;

Time will finally escape.

Rush to catch itself and

Stumble through the jagged

Shards of its crashed tomb,

Grains of its crushed self,

A desert unto the horizon,

Windswept, yet with promise.

To quench an unnamed thirst,

It wanders the tempest dunes,

Chasing sandstorms for a ride

To hunt for fleeting mirages.