The echoes of the tigers cry rattles the sleeping hearts at night.
Across the planes of the African desert where the winds blow through sand so hot from the midday sun,one wonders who is watching tonight.
The slither of the sand snake winding it's way through the lonely tracks,with the odd dung beetle rolling it's load with precision and determination against the desert winds.
Oh! so beautiful the eagle at flight, where is his sleeping place tonight.
With graciouse movements like ballerinas in the sky,a sharp stab of the sun penetrates my eye.
I turn away and look at the ground,"what is that what is that sound?" Is that where the wind will blow tonight?
