Sirocco

On sirocco winds and humid nights,
    I wake again to vacant lights
Imprisoned by my precious maze,
    Subdued flame is now ablaze
 
On sirocco wings and glowing signs,
    I contemplate all my designs
A burning search for static ground,
    Know full well it can’t be found
 
In sirocco wrath and scorching fray,
    I often think I’ve lost my way,
As the high hopes within my brain,
    Merge into a blood red rain
 
In sirocco wake and fading spark,
    I submit again to the dark
But I’ll keep going, see it through,
    ‘Till bright solace shines anew