The Desert’s Madman Poem by Anita Atina

He was sent into the desert
No lamp, no stick, no compass to guide him

Just him and his trusted camel
Turned out by a city of believers!

Though storms filled every pore with grating sand
He could hear

No compass had he, to guide him
But the trusted camel who led him

No lamp had he for the dark howling nights
But he could see

As the storm pushed him back ferociously
From treacherous quicksand

Onto other paths he trod, hesitating at first
Thirst drove him mad

But then his pace quickened
Some madmen find water first

Smelling it out with parched cracked lips
A thirsty soul lighting the way

For the living waters send for those banished to the desert
Bringing sweet deliverance to the thirsty