A cold dawn streaks over the desert,
Lighting up the earth in a bright red glow,
mysterious wind is starting to blow.
Whipping up the grains into a dark cloud,
The sandstorm rolls over the bleak land,
wave of suffocating specks of sand.
Everyone huddles quietly in their homes,
Waiting for the violent storm to pass overhead,
it’s over and the winds have fled.
But something is rushing towards the town,
Rapidly tunneling through the desert sand,
this way and that, through the land.
The villagers gasp in fear at the terrible serpent,
As it rises out of the sand, scattering the grains,
thundering roar echoing across the desert plains.
The men have no time to gather their weapons,
For out of its gaping jaws spurts it fiery breath
the small village in pain and death.
The woman and men clutch their children tight,
As the serpent and the roaring flames of red,
the village charred and every human dead.
The serpent turns to leave the black remains,
For the desert winds to blow back and forth,
As it heads for the cities of the far north.