Halt, my companions, beneath the fading sky,
Where ancient winds carry the ghosts that never die.
At al-Dakhul’s edge, where the silent sands roam,
I mourn for a love, and the ashes of home.
The tents are gone, their shadows erased,
Only whispers remain where her footsteps were traced.
The moon drinks sorrow from Hawmal’s cold stone,
And I walk through the night, abandoned, alone.
