Red Sands.

Around me lay the red sands,
Falling between my fingers on both hands,
Rolling and falling like a red sea,
How can this possibly be,
The sand flows like the ocean,
beyond the horizon and into the open,
But it is not water,
Nor is there a border,
Yet it rises with the wind,
In the air it is thinned,
In the color of red,
As if in the sand one has bled,
I am filled with dread,
Could one possibly be dead,
In my hand,
Sits the sand,
As I look to the sky,
I decide it is here I should die,
And with this I stand,
Surrounded by the red sand.