Dust swirls over the dull mud houses,
As a hot wind sweeps around the huts,
And dry earth is strewn with cracks and cuts.
Suddenly the ground gives a low rumble,
Breaking the silence hanging in the air.
People walk out of their homes and stare.
For twisting and turning on the yellow dunes,
Comes across the desert a snake of old,
With glittering eyes and a soul dark and cold.
People start to run and scream in terror,
And men race for their sword and spears,
Knowing they’re about to face their worst fears.
The massive sand serpent is almost on top of them.
Rearing up, hissing and snarling, its sharp teeth bared,
Its tail lashing back and forth with its crimson frill flared.
Strong men dressed in brown leather armor,
Hurl their pointed spears at the writhing snake,
Before being thrust aside like leaves thrown by a rake.
The serpent snarls angrily as the harpoons penetrate its scales,
Causing its scarlet blood to flow and vicious rage to grow,
But more men come running,
their spears ready to throw.
Hissing angrily the snake slowly retreats back to the sands,
Only to return to reap its violent revenge on the small town,
To wipe it clear of the earth and to send it back to the desert, brown.