Here is the next one, daughter-in-law.
An old man sat beneath a dune
His face was like an ancient rune
His flesh was old, his heart was young
About his waist a kinjal hung
His eyes were pearls in oister deep
His fiery spirit would never sleep
His skin was like a ghaf tree's bark
Within him shone an unquenchable spark
His hand could yet wield a blade
He had been part of many a raid.
His hair was matted with dust and sand
A pattern of veigns upon his hand
Upon his cheek a deep white scar
His eyes yet saw clear and far.
His soul was content, his mind was wise
He sat by the fire and watched the sunrise.
The shadows were dark, the fire burned bright
The sand yet held the coolness of night.
He sat beneath the windswept dune
His spirit sang an ancient tune.
A fierce wind came with the dawn
It swept away the pearls wan
It snuffed the spark, the spirit slept
Within his heart
the old tune wept.
The sands of time swept him away
From the sky there fell a terrible rain.
The fire was quenched, the wind blew fey
And now the world is in disarray.
The spark is gone, the tune forgotten
Upon the dune a tower begotten.
One day the old man shall sit by the fire again
He shall take revenge on his wild kin.
Forget not the man with skin like bark
He shall return when there is no dark.
He shall come back when there is abundance of rain
When people have forgotten to the gift of pain.
Keep watch for him, remember the tune
Light the fire beneath the dune
Raze the tower, burn it's dust
Let it's foundations crumble to rust
Stand firm against the dawn wind
That you too may become a beduin.
I hope my poor rhyming doesn't make you spontaneously combust.
