Un-Titled

Walking through the desert A genre-less beast of burden The flaming orb in the sky A brutal master so true She trudges with drooped head With feet like lead Moving involuntarily Towards the bleak unknown Hark! What do I see? A great body of water Inevitably doomed Soles bruising Earth In a for-ward movement To-wards un-avoidable destruction Eyes scanning the horizon Doom is definitely the solution This great body of doom Lapping at the toes She'd rather take the plunge Than turn her back on it She'd rather swim across Than wait for her salvation.... The Egyptians are coming