It's there on the tip of my tongue
"Words cannot convey"
Too many times has it been sung

Are musings meant to be eternally veiled
by the black fog of space where words do not exist?
My thoughts compact, left dry as the dust inhaled

On dusty desert roads, in a sandstorm over dunes
for that is how the lost word feels
gone, crumbled, almost--but not quite--discernible like the flawed remnants of ancient runes

Would I could take my mind and give it to you.
Then the lost word would not torment me.