Of the Sand
Of wind and sand
A sandstorm starts.
In his heart,
A sandstorm always
rages.
It may slow down,
But never goes away.
I am Gaara of the sand.
If one has a sandstorm
in their heart,
How does one survive?
The dry sand is salt on
a wound,
Piercing and stinging.
But thanks to a
cleansing light,
The sand turns silky.
It slips and slides
gently,
Like a breeze in one's
hair.
I am Gaara of the silky sand now.
July 8, 2006
