Spiders are crawling in my stomach,
Decomposing in acidity.
The bones, hard as stone.
Was father’s mountain formed in the darkness?
I climb the roads up,
Searching for the sky.
The trees are sleeping,
Cradling decay.
Barefoot,
I meet ants,
Sheltered under the barks.
The road doesn’t end
I am tired,
Birds lower their voice.
Where are you, my lover?
Take me home.
I am tired,
Tired of walking alone.