Deserted Heart

What apparition is this, that appeareth to me  
In this swelteringly hot desolation?  
It appears that her face is a shining oasis  
A poor lonely travelers' salvation  
   
But do I risk becoming bones  
Amongst these dry foreboding stones  
For something that may not actually be  
But product of insanity?  
   
Or do I keep on heading east  
Through the paths of ravenous beasts  
Who's gaping mouths and sharpened jaws  
Lie waiting for my slightest pause?  
   
Or do I make my journey west  
In my hopes of finding rest  
I'm hopelessly lost, I must confess  
The truth is hardest to digest  
   
Still I keep my steady tread  
Though my feet may feel like led  
There should be rest just up ahead  
Some solace in a nice warm bed 
   
Reality is fading fast  
And my mind is fleeing south  
Thinking I found the fount at last  
I shovel sand into my mouth  
   
When the travelers heading north  
See my bloated, sand filled corpse  
They will stop, and they will start  
To mourn for my deserted heart