Poetry stay

We’ve descended mountains,
You and I, and
Entered the valley.
Not verdant. Not alive.
Sugar sand stretches, bitter,
Sterile white,
Corpse of the past,
Littered with a hundred voices,
Whispers of regret, fear, condemnation.
Unwanted.
Unloved.
Unworthy.
Unclean.
Serpents watch.
Scales glisten under heat.
Pain pulses, throats close, eyes throb.
Valley of Death.
Unwritten, the rule states
We cannot go back—only forward.
Through your wasteland, I will stay with you.
Stay with me through mine.