We have been digging and digging the ground even before our forefathers were born. We enjoy it as it defines the essence of our existence. We even built our homes around the pit so
refuge
won’t be far when
the rain comes and
flood the hole
so we can  have warm stew
when things get cold
and soft bed to lay our backs when we
become weary
We even made fire to
conquer the darkness and
sang songs and danced while we dig
But we have been
plagued
by the why and
never really cared
So we dig and worship the pit
and deny our very
end…

...She walked down a long road
rain clouds and grays
concealed the stars
It was dark and cold
Dark
and cold as
her stare
She never went this far before but
the scent of the trail was
too much to resist
She wanted more than
daylight til she was
blinded...
Green are the trees no more
and their silhoutte
embraced the ground
She thought blood is red
under the moonlight but
it was black as uncertainties
and it tasted madness
If only
she could get back
If only she could...
then perhaps
she will see
the sunrise
tomorrow...