They whisper of demons that lurk in water the secrets it holds, the lies I thirst... The oasis knocks at my door, With the two drops I seek But my water, I'm denied By the whispers of the unknowing I thirst... Helpless before this treason, Of whispers I cannot stop, The word you utter is a plague, The vengeful cackle of pox, I thirst, I wait... In the lonely hills of the west, That sanity long forsake, No water to be seen, In the empty nest of my dove, The oasis knocks at my door, They've hidden away the key, My water has been swallowed, By the barrels of their guns, Lo, a vanguard of toddlers, Whom warriors cower behind, We, the bucklers of the weak, A crutch for the feeble, It comes... From the smoke of war, it looms, The bane of a dervish, a dream-eater, The daughter of hubris and damnation I lay paralysed, by fear and dread The oasis knocks at my door, But the wretched gale seeps through. Read more by Faraz here or follow him on Twitter @FarazTalat