Blood of dust

The sun boils you as you walk the ground,
as you walk, your mind weary, as you near falling down.
Luckily, you stay a foot and continue to walk.
The only shade around is a product of the smallest rock.
Then bugs start to swarm, closer to you,
they start biting away at your shoe.
They crawl up your leg but you don't see,
oddly enough they don't see me.
They crawl into your skin, many of bugs.
I was frightened so I threw our last few water jugs.
The bugs climbed up up to your head.
I was sure you were dead.
Unfortunately, you weren't dead yet,
for any vital organs they were slow to get.
You called for help but only they came out,
it spread throughout and about.
The ground turns a sickly black as the bugs crawl up.
the bugs bite holes in you and as your blood pours into the sand.
Sand soaks down head then your leg then your body and finally your hand.
The bugs worked for the sand.
Now no one is allow in that land.
I must tell the world, I must, I must!
About the time you drowned in the blood of dust.