...some tales are about nothing in particular.
***there's a distant sand that travels borne in flight by the wind
and a fine sand that slips away from my grasp within
the coarse sand nature violently breaks down into fine grain
a wet sand sculpts the dreams of a child in her innocent play
the crafted sand blazes on the fire to feed my hunger tonight
the glazed sand brightly bedecks my beloved bride
there's a sand i even worship as my faith's right
the sand trapped inside the twisted glass un-counts my day
the ethereal sand of my bones will turn into sand someday
in the end its all nothing, but simply sand laying along my way...
