(Based on an anonymous transcript) As I pass through this mystic land all I see is but the golden sand. Wind, the master of desert; Plays the song The dunes are but neigh to dance along. The wind blows moving the grains to and fro; giving them the life they much desire, a reason to exist, compete, feel and persprire. Sometimes a mighty storm uproots the very foundation of the dune. Sometimes a gentle breeze shapes the features and puts it back to tune. The dunes change form continuously yet their essence survives One wind leads them to perdition and another revives. Eons have passed Yet the winds continue their game The dunes eagerly await for their elixir to come and proclaim.