O'er shifting grey sands,
I stalk softly.
Through that glistening portal
I did come into
This sacred place.
The fresh rolling dunes
Rejuvenated once again.
I heard the sound...
That most holy clattering!
It drew me from my slumber.

This virgin expanse, its
pristine absence of smell,
Elevates my soul.
But it is destined to become a tomb,
Once again.
An oppressing feotor,
A putrid blanket, shall descend.
Rank darkness will enter the once
Untouched grains; their absorbance spent.
A malicious shroud will grasp me by the throat
And then I shall wonder...

When shall the cycle begin again?
The spindly, oblong ones;
From which nutrients spring forth.
I sit on my high perch,
Awaiting their return,
Exuding an aura of haughty indifference.
But if they knew the truth,
About how I sit here and pray,
And hope that the filth will be banished today,
That my owner will return;
and swiftly clean,
My dirty litter tray.