Sunparched sky, thirsty as baked earth; beneath dusty feet. This path has seen so many, travelers seeking refuge from the drought; external and internal. Something is needed, to fill the empty spaces within. A soul, in harmony with its mother; cries out for rain. - - - - - - - - - - - Just thought I'd give it a try. I prefer splitting your lines into thoughts that could go either way. The ambiguity of the blocks forces you into reading more stuff between the lines. Sorry for butchering your poetry. I'm going retreat back to my modeling. Cheers! - M-nster

Mind Over Matter
"If you don't mind, then it don't matter."