breathless, my journey ends
Dried-up,
___a stream___
in the moor, no-man’s land.
When a soul dares near—
a gunshot blooms
/ Red /
the barren soil
will feast on
anything.
You said amid this desert stands
—an oasis—
A land of innocence, but where you crown sins.
(Greedy, yes,
but that’s all humanity ever is.)
I begged you to point me to the shrine
yet I am left stumbling,
...blind...
Before what was left
of the roads once promised direction—
I drop
to my knees,
cracked soil tears my skin.
In no-man’s land—
there are no breaths ahead.
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