The sandman

A piece of dark material I suppose.

A group of sands burst up like nothing before in the middle of Sahara desert. 

Every quartz rose vigorously as if a seismic sea wave ascended over a ruined city that abandoned centuries ago.

The wind forged the sands to be a human figure. It was violent and chaotic, dark and intense.

The shin, the calf, the knee and the thigh bounded as two gigantic towers while a whirlpool was gravitated through the air integrating the hip and abdomen. 

The raspy growl traveled steeply beyond the horizontal line from the hollow whirling. 

Scorpions and cactuses witnessed the absurdity as it unfolded. 

Confusion was grown in their head as the prophet did not indite such texts in his latest publication. 

The shoulder as well as the head were then sculptured and clung as a tied knot. 

It was formidable. 

Like steel, it shined by the original skin. 

Like iron, it hardened in the cellular level.