Withering sands into the twilight

Written by: thelast don

just off the coast set a wee little man,

gold dust of his eyes made me notice his hairs made of sand,



little old fellow I have a question for you,

has the world turned to the devil and if what I say  is true,




It is dark and if you only knew,

so what makes you want to talk to man with sand but in his shoe,



They say you are one of the few, though it may seem,

some of the things I have vision is sure to turn nightmares into dreams,

It came but at a price,

a thing that seem so nice,

there are things I seen that scare me so, make men but look like mice,



please don't ask me twice,

it comes but with a price,

you will see how so a fellow like me can be as cold as ice.