Somewhere amongs the firelines divide,
In the woods dry from the arid season,
Parched, the ground begs for rain,
The sun scorches, the tendrils of fire rage,
My life blows in the breeze like the ashes.
The rains never come to visit,
The cloud shades my fate from god,
The grazers have left long ago,
The wind blows,
Whistles through the dead skeletal remains,
The dust blows into my eyes.
I follow your mirage,
I'm dead just living in memories of you,
In memories of your voice, you , your eyes,
They are in my mind, haunting me,
I exist, i used to be alive,
I walk, I trip, I fall down,
I'm unable to walk,
My legs have given up, tired,
I still am crawling,
I drag my self, fighting the pain,
Towards your mirage that the mind paints.
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