Drown in mirage

Flowing, raging through the sands,
Cascading, rolling down the dunes,
The waves - so cold, so fresh, so grand,
Swallowed the land into the blue.

The hot, dry ground went wet and cold.
The strangling air went fresh and light.
The deep-blue covered the sand-gold.
The hills of sand turned into tides.

And so he watched the desert sink,
All blue - he couldn't see the ground.
All he thirsted was a drink,
And overwhelmed by water, drowned.

Was it a blessing or a lie?
Didn't, at least, he leave in peace?
Thirst is a much worse way to die,
Than death by hallucinated seas.