Four steps from the sunlight
Shadows growing darker
The wind brings something sweet and sad
Blue sand that burns blows near

In the distance a man walks alone
The sands deter him little
As if they know him, this Traveler
A winged creature flies above the sand,
howling in its fruitless search for meat

Shadows encroach, overtake
The sand forms frozen archways
through which the man passes
He is going home, to Gahshikahrah.

The wind has died, the flyer mourns
Kiah shake the bitter statues of the sand
With glazed eyes, they run to Quay
lest the night steal both heat and life.