The Sandstorm

Standard

Piercing winds
Filthy air
You think you can get me down
You think you can scare me out
Pebbles round and round
Dried leaves up and down
You think I’ll get weak
You think I’ll give up
If someone needs to die down
That would be you, not me
You’re doomed to stay at most a sandstorm
I’m destined to win and break free

Copyright © MW the Mermaid 2016. All rights reserved.

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