The desert is full of many grains
Many people seeking fame
Many people pursuing riches
Seeking to make a name
They dance around
They work hard
They tale their dust
And form a shard
A shard of sand
Made fine by time
A peice of art
A shining dime
Its value untold
Its worth is precious
The hard work to make it
The countless, countless, hours
All to make
This shard from dust
This shard of sand
This shard of luck
But it isn't so
The shard is made
From water mixing
Which happens never
In the desert
Yet every few hours
Day by Day
A storm
Ravages the deserts
No shard of sand has ever survived.
For four times a day they die
And once a year they live
Yet people seek them, why?
They seek a hope that never comes
A joy that fades so fast
For they take their dust, the tears of sand
And it turns only to rust
Nothing lasts, nor stays around
Even grains of sand
Are tossed and thrown about
An unfamiliar place, to always land