Who Am I? Poem by Abdalla Juma Shenga

I am desert where nothing grows
Those that i keep if not by heat
Of thirst they die
And the cold night wind blows sand over them
Soon they are burried
Forever forgotten

Like the glistening sand my tales are plenty
They speak of pleasure
They speak of treasure
Hopeful souls storm in like a sand storm
Ambitiously chasing the mirage
Which gets better as they get deeper
But i get worse

Rocky hills every where
Faint hearts despair
Only to die on their way home
Only madmen remain
For it is not hope that drives them
It is the passion to see better days
Where they come from is worse
Thats why they rather die

Those are the lucky ones
Within me they find an oasis
Surrounded by date palms and flowers
With cool springs that sparkle
A fertile land
Here, everything florishes