The Song of the Lizard King

Across the desert sands

The lizard flows

Upon his withered hands

All the world

Is a mirror of me

Says he

Look for instance

At the bark on the tree

Or the feathers of the bird

Flying high

Overlap like they do my

Scaly flakes

Look at the lakes

With their waves

Or the mounds of my brothers’ graves

The dunes

Their bones still tune this sing

I am the Lizard King.

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