The blue one from the sands
One from one of the great lands
Persia, a land of warriors and strength
Who's power spread a great length
Yet this one is different, he seems less
For he is quiet, keeps to himself I guess
For fear that, he is sent away
For friends, he will pray
He will ask, and beg but never demand
That One from the land of Sand

It's beautiful writing adorns his fur, the purple blue of evening sky
And you can see, the grace and elegance, of those people once so high
And because of this, even though now they are gone
He still can live on
Without the kingdom in the land
A land filled with sand
A last relic of the great time
A place where one may know, the great rhythm and rhyme
Of the flow of time
A flow, measured in Sand
Did he once see it? The One From that Land.

Sad and lonely he does seem
But from what I can gleam
That one, is happy and kind
Even if the words don't come from his mind
But straight from the heart
Without a thought before his lips do part
The words may be wrong
But the meaning will be clear before long
When speaking to the one from the Sands

First Impressions matter to some
But the more I research, i see, that its not about what is now, but what can become
Time can teach so much to us, if only
We watch and listen we would see he wasn't lonely
Maybe the first time we see
We instantly decide what type of person they be
But from reading and learning about this man from a distant land
That those impressions can be blown away easily as sand.