I've gathered sand . . .
I let it fly
Every time
The stillness dies . . .
To see the grains
In the grasp of a wind
Tossed with no meaning
I understand then . .
My tears are as dry
As the sun-swept dunes
A little less than nothing left
To win or to lose . .

I've gathered years
I let them fail
Penned by another
Someone else's tale
A rising torrent
Of a drowning flood
Water's more deadly
But blood is blood
My hope is as broken
As the world that I live in
Days into years
But nothing's a given

I've gathered tears
From a once laughing heart
Every piece
Has been smashed all apart
A dying religion
And faded out eyes
These are the relics
Of a childhood's demise
My breath is as torn
As an unfulfilled dream
In this nightmare life's tainted
There's nothing left for me.

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