They swept across the land.
They did not leave a thing.
They did not leave a person
a stone, or a tree.
They did not leave anything.
All that’s left is sand.
I remember father.
I remember him.
Every minute I remember.
Every moment.
Now I hate everyone –
before I used to love.
One day thorns shall grow from their graves.
When they return
I’ll be waiting.
I will not leave
a person standing.
All I’ll leave is sand.
All I’ll leave is sand.