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Dust Storms

Whirlwinds spin the desert sand, leaving nothing in its path to stand, 
So we gather to keep protection as it hits in our direction. 
Darkness begins to sweep,  the storm has made a keep
Keeping a light, keeping the night, keeping the treasured sight.

Whipping above the dunes the air above and low spins recklessly out of control,
The heart of nature has no goal.
A wasteland as far as you can see on a clear day when the air is clean,
The whipping storms pull and form unwelcomed moments harsh and mean. 

A day ago so hot and bright the sand began to break away from the ground
Moving particles of dust swirling around
Saltating becoming airborne as the hours passed; now without a structure in sight, 
The dust grew in width and height. 

For miles and miles, this cloud of dense sand and dust grew in might  Draping the Camels
and Horses face and a shielding ours against their bodies the impact has made its gain. 
Rumbling tumbling it hits with a spark; we were the target, we were the mark, our air was consumed
in this storms unnatural dark.  Nearly moving us miles ahead with its might, we could not tell if it was day or night.

The disembodied cries out and howls, as the growing clouds blot out the sky, many animals and soldiers die. 
( To be continued in Dust Storms Two.)

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Dust Storms