Searching the sands for something new,
Far ahead, shards of moonlight, 
Through mist we view.

We see shapes of a future, carved in sand,
Formed like sculpture, 
Though most unplanned.

Still, with the dawn comes a shore washed clean,
A dispassionate tide, 
Dissolving all our hearts had seen.

So, our steps turn seaward permitting no sign or trace,
A once fond world spins once again,
To a lonely, hollow, foreboding space.