This is a poem that I wrote a while back, with a few adjustments.

The Colourless Sand

The sky is grey.

I walk along the waters edge. My bare feet leave deep prints in the
colourless sand, hollows that seep full with water and crumble.

I turn and look back. One set of footprints in the sand. Mine, alone.
The water crashes against the beach, the surf races up to erase my
lingering trail.


The wind blows, whipping my hair into my face. I pull my shawl around my
shoulders, and stand facing the sea.

I watch the waves crest and rise, and fall. They rise again in constant
motion, neverending, never stopping. Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Clouds are rolling in, dark and angry. A bright strike, another rumble.
Rain pours down. The sea crashes, roaring defiantly.

Still I stand on the beach, the rain wetting me, chilling me.

I shiver.

I wait.

Penned by my hand on the 20th of Chronos, in the year 370 AF.