north is the path that leads to the narrow way
sympathy will be on stangers faces
you will not want to stay but your limbs will ache
restless the sky you will not touch
crawling creatures roar and get louder
centipedes with feet that have feet
horned toads shoot mini fire balls
the black and red striped cobrathon wiggles up your chilled pale back
forgetting your own name with closed eyes of fear
your panic cannot conquer the force
grass is your face
folded face
breathless
cry your tears
cry
the end is soon
peek out one eye
to see the dark side of the moon
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