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.