What else??

Here stood a man,
on the edge of the Sahara.
An embodiment of drought
was his parched visage.

Not wavered by the scalding wind,
he stood in the blazing sand.
On the edge of a vast land,
where death was at large.

Blackened, blistered skin.
dried up eyes, shedding hair.
Out of the land of dunes and fiery sun,
this man, as if from hell had come.

His clothes bathed in blood,
breath and hand smelt of flesh.
His sheathed dagger, blood coated,
Pockets filled with stuff he didn't own.

A tribal woman then happened to pass,
with an earthen pot, filled.
His eyes grew wild, he limped to her,
and desperately begged for some.

Shocked at first, aghast at his sight,
she backed off with a loud cry.
But soon, on this man on his knees,
the woman's pity bent and she no more run.

She walked to him and poured some out,
into his thirsty, stinky mouth.
While he drank like a madman, she asked,
why was he tainted and smelt of blood?

He slaked, paused and took a breath

"For astray, I wandered for days,
under the scorching desert sun.
No food for 3 and 2 days no water,
My moments of life, were left but a few.

Then I met a lost man, by a dune,
and he asked of what, I asked you.
Atleast 3 long days of sand more to go,
I desired to live, what else could I do?"