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
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