LAWRENCE OF ARABIA

I was born where silence speaks— where wind carves God into the sand.
The sun has branded my shadow’s back; it calls me by no mortal name.

I have eaten the dust of kingdoms, drunk from the mirage of men’s belief.
The desert taught me truth in thirst— that glory and grief are one.

My horse is flame, my breath is wind, my dreams are cities made of bone.
I have spoken with ghosts of prophets, their tongues still bleeding stone.

They call me conqueror, or fool, yet I am servant to the sky.
No nation claims the soul I bear— I serve what cannot die.

I have seen the dawn split open, its heart—white fire, pure and blind.
And I rode through it, unafraid, to lose myself, and find.

Now, in the hush of memory’s dune, my footsteps blur, my story fades.
Still the desert hums my tune— its endless hymn— the man it made.

:: 11.09.2025 ::