Without destination
Without destination
Without destination
there are no trees to take refuge.
I'm thirsty,
the legs no longer respond
to advance.
I look up,
the red giant
it absorbs my breath violently.
My eyes hurt,
my skin hurts.
The road is dry,
It is dusty.
There is no destination for calm;
somehow
the roads lead to the same end.
Vultures spin around,
fear invades my being,
Death smiles and says my name.
Separator
8/21/2018
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Hay mucha desolación cabalgando entre líneas. Se siente una gran pena, un peso emocional fuerte clavándose en el ser.
La triste realidad.
siempre hay un destino aunque las piernas no caminen, aunque no se tenga fuerza, muy bueno el poema, llego hasta mi ser, aunque un poco triste
Gracias por leer @jun1or.