Beneath the gloomy, empty skies

Of ancient Araby,

A forgotten army lies

Within the sandy sea.

The Warriors, once bold and proud,

Once arrayed in order splendid,

Are now a silent, bony crowd–

Their glorious campaign has ended.

Yet on the faint night wind is borne

An echoing ghostly call.

And from midnight to morn

The Kings of Night hold them in thrall!

Again the old formation rises,

And blazes boldly in the dark;

Each bygone soldier yet recognizes

As their old commanders bark.

They raise their swords, and heed the call,

And again the march will be resumed;

Until the dawn, when one and all

By the desert are again consumed.

What Desert Devils, unseen by human eyes,

Control this dread army

Beneath the gloomy, empty skies

Of ancient Araby?

Inspired by (but not exactly based upon) this.