The clouds were rumbling and grumbling, as the wolves of the wood howled high with hissing rattle
snakes waiting with a watchful eye. A stationary cactus alienated and alone looking up at the nights
sky which begins to grown and moan. Bang bang bang, there is a great scream the thunder and
lightning are letting off steam. The cactus is scared the lights have gone out his hairs have pricked up
now without a doubt. The poor little cactus falls to the floor, please lightning gods no more no more.
The lightning had hit him very much before, As the horizon is rising he comes from the dead
realising that this nightmare had came from his head. The hot sands of time resurrect him the hot
sands save him. But now he is afraid waiting for the night waiting for the nightmare, waiting for
impending fright. The ceaseless sacred serpents waiting in delight rattle rattle rattle he knows he
should be dead. Rattle rattle rattle the sound of those serpents just won’t leave his head. The little
cactus once again hears the piercing howl of the wolf, de ja vu? The nightmare begins once again
the darkness is coming creeping from above him. The glass shattering thunder screeching through
the sky. The little cactus knows this time he will surely die. The evil forces strike his heal, sadly slowly
surely he begins to fall, imprinting his distressed smouldering figure upon the once lifesaving sands.
The storms abated, the stars now shining, his heart is whining waiting for the serpents to start
dining. Please please shining sun, rise over the hill and raise me up, standing strong and tall before
the next night falls.