The rusty car door creaks open.
Kicked it closed, but now we're trapped.
Up above, rain tauntingly quenches us;
Down below, a cliff brings sweet demise.

Two days since our food expired.
Our voices and bodies stretched thin
Tied to deflated clouds by silver lining.

The whirs of doubt tempt us to jump
And for a moment we invited death's warm embrace.
But a low growl, from stomachs and throats, and back we go.

Down our aimless journey
Frail as needles, we pierce every haystack,
Hoping above hope that we shall dine again.