Purple Sands

in a land of purple sands — a glasswork city grew
cathedrals of stained glass — and a likewise people too

from the land the Glassmen sprung — as flowers from the earth
linked as one — one people all from birth

such was this race of men — that none could hate or condemn
and no one could suffer ill — for death would the killer kill

and of this strangest race — they had no need for face or tongue
for each and all saw alike — as through glass — the one

to the city she brought — strange coins, strange eyes
strange clothing, tantalizing hips and thighs

a stranger wandered in — she had a voice you could not know
a heart they could not recall — and so much blood