Us.

A Spanish guitar plucks and whines, stringing a long note of mystic trance across the mind's eye.
The sands of time shift under our bare feet; bronze bodies dancing in the approaching dawn.
Tents liter the grounds of our tribes; dogs and livestock mingle among our life.
Dawn breaks the horizon.
Horse flesh moves under me, a panting froth of sweat, heat and exertion.
Hooves of fine Arabians break the earth.
Human skin sizzles under the approaching heat.
The race of survival continues it's run with each turn of the Wheel.
You are Us and We are of this Mortal Life.