Since no man walks upon this spot,
Is this a land that God forgot?
Temperatures soar beyond one's mind,
No water there that one can find.
All that lies on this desert floor,
Is a scorching, hot, deserted morgue;
Beady-eyed vultures circle high,
But nothing else to break the sky.
Desolate, barren, white bones or skulls,
Bare rocks, dry sand, colorless, dull;
Do you think God creates a place,
Then leaves without some sign of grace?
God has compassion for all lands,
And He's adorned these desert sands;
Wild flowers every Spring appear,
Mysterious blooms, year after year.