Sea of Sand

thirty two days!
it's been thirty two days since the sea ran dry
still lost at sea but, of a different kind
the water has gone, leaving sand to fry
the heat burns all below the open sky
a large vessel in new desert sand
endless orange, too much heat to stand
I walk this ship's empty deck
it's been just me for as long as I can remember
wandering a damage-less wreck
walking down empty halls,
dark corridors and metal walls
bottom of the ship I stand with a torch in hand
dark room, flashlight and no real plan
with a hiss and a pop the torch is lit,
time to cut my way out of this ship
theta waves oh those theta waves...
the steel wall drops into sand
four hour cut, now burning wind
I walk slowly into the scalding sun
wind blowing, moving sand seen by one
alone I enter from ship to desert
no longer caring of the change of weather
all I see ahead it land, once was a sea now is land
300 billion gallons? I don't know I can't say when
a sea vanished in a few days,
lost in a body of water, now a desert haze
hot dry air no water here, just sand everywhere
I wander far, sand fills my shoes, over endless dunes
I have to ask was I always alone?
And never able to find my way home?
theta waves oh those theta waves...
I keep walking but with nothing new in sight
the only help I get is when day turns to night
instead of unbearable heat, it's freezing cold
this unchanging scenery is growing old
the wind has calmed at least for now
I will keep walking I can't slowdown
five days passed three bottles down
one water bottle left, still nothing around
no shapes just sand hot and dry, an empty land
nothing here to be found, feel I can no longer stand
with a final limp my knees give way into the sand
a pained gasp, moist wrists, caught with my hands
sweat drips from my head, drops like rain into the dust
I collapse onto my final bed, dry storm i'm buried in an endless gust
oh theta waves can you come save, me? those Theta Waves...
my eyes open to bright light, it's warm and dry but doesn't feel right
a familiar sound but only a ceiling in sight, could it be? Could it be?
I turn my head to face the room door, that same old brown décor
the knob it turns, wife comes inside, with our daughter at her side
they are happy that I'm awake, they tell me I've been out for days
this feels too good to be real, I am happy but have a worried feel
if this fake I don't want to wake, loosing them again I could not take
we step outside, it's warm and dry, I walk a few feet or at least I try
my legs are weak from my time out, trying to decide where to go now
I look around in the bright sunlight, the wind still blowing it;s not right
so much wind for a wooded street, looking at my daughter I see her speak
but her words are silent I hear nothing at all, this reality begins to fall
the sun burns with intense heat, the wind blows hard with sandy fleet
slowly my eyes open to a sea of sand, limply gazing into barren land
is this it Theta Waves? I suppose I will never be saved...