fauxcroft

There’s a storm on the horzon

And it’s heading our way soon

A sandstorm of epic proportions

All colour oranges in various hues

The vibrancy of sand and dunes

Shifting like an orange granular sea

Who knows what it’s hiding

Who knows underneath the mysteries

That dwell deep beneath

The sands of time of Arabian grace

In this hot and arrid place

Where tempestuous storms cross the plains

Carrying vast quantities of orange sand grains

A whole Roman Legion disappeared under the sands

Never to be found again in this land

This hot desert dwelling of the holy mystic man

Clad in Arabian robes, he of Arabian nights

The storm is heading our way soon

Bringing the end of days for me and you.