Sandstorm Chase Taylor Laughter no longer echoes in these halls The paint dies Chipping and falling like leaves from a tree Doors hang on to their hinges It's the only thing they remember how to do People filled these home Now something else has replaced them Burying Shredding Killing The sand came like a charging bull An indomitable wall of earth Crashing into the town like a wave A desert ghost invading homes They became coffee pots filling with sand The howling wind burned skin And buried others, an instant grave Now only scorpions call it home
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