Classic Poem

This is the toll of the desert,
These bleaching bones in the sun;
Ever the price of its gruelling,
If all its treasures are won.

Stern is the sway of the desert,
Ever and always the same;
The strong and the sturdy survive it,
But woe to the weak and lame.

These bleaching bones on the hillside
Bear witness for others to see,
Where someone has paid the ransom,
The desert's toll and its fee.

Take heed from this gruesome warning,
Take care lest you might stay too,
To bleach on the sands of the desert,
And the coyotes howl over you.