Cimmerian Sands of Deserts Black

I wander through the endless black
The desert vast, no turning back
No stars, no moon, no sound, no sign
Just sand and shadows intertwined

The wind is still, the air is thick
Each step I take feels slow, and sick
The dunes stretch out, no end in sight
As if the world itself takes flight

And yet, in every whispered gust
I feel a presence—faint, but just
A subtle shift, a breath too near
A silence sharp, edged with fear

Is something there beyond the dunes?
Watching in the blackened gloom?
Or is it just the desert's play
A trick of night, a mind’s dismay?  

I pause, and listen to the sand
As if it hides some unseen hand
A crunch, a scrape, a fleeting sound
Then nothing but the night profound

I turn, but nothing breaks the dark
No eyes, no shape, no telling mark
Yet still, the sense that I’m not alone
Grows stronger with each whispered tone

The sand shifts soft beneath my feet
Like something stirs just out of reach
A brush of wind? A shadow’s creep?  
Or something crawling from the deep?  

It’s there—I feel it, yet unseen
A presence on the edge between  
The waking world and whispered dread
A haunting force that fills my head

But when I look, there’s only night
Just empty dunes, no form, no sight
And still, it lingers, just a trace
The thought of something in this place

I cannot tell, I cannot see
If something truly stalks the sandy sea
Of blackened sand where nothing reigns
Or if it’s all within my veins

And so I walk, unsure, afraid
Of shadows cast by night’s own blade
For something’s there, or maybe not
Yet either way, I can't be caught