For miles it’s barren, lifeless.
Air, thin,
too thin to breathe.
Path, gone,
giants lead the way now.
This bag, heavy.
Mask, stifling.
I see the emptiness
ahead of me
where everything is.
I’m scared of what they’re saying,
of the worst to come.
I’m closer to heaven
yet feels like hell.
Food, tasteless.
Day, colourless.
I hear them,
but I don’t recognise anything,
anyone.
I want to stop,
I’m tired, too tired.
Come on they say.
We’re almost there they say.
They don’t know,
they can’t see,
but I keep going.
Words by Mateusz Kryszkiewicz.
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