Skittles of skulls roll
As Empires fall
Leaving vultures empty handed

Sinking sand lies in the palm of my hand
Trapping their flies who spy
That have landed

A clench of the fist
To a snake biting hiss
Tells their dreams
Can’t be granted

A flash in the air
Of hurricane despair
Damages their armies beyond
Oil and repair

With their bloodied hands full
Their Empires can’t be mended