A vibrant landscape
smothered beneath arid dust
of fallen castles,
and our legions march, lockstep,
toward the next horizon —

crossing that dry bridge
between shrinking oases
as winter sets in.

Evaporate,
Justice the Ideal;
let us thirst,
left baking
under stars we invented
to honor Progress.

Twilight looms,
the only promise.

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Follow the links in the poem’s text if you would like to scour the sources of my prompts: Fandango and the Ragtag Community. In their comments sections there is much more to discover!