A tormenting sun burned above the vultures that circled above his thoughts anticipating his fall. His lips were chapped. Dried blood is the proof. This must be hell...

...The subtle growl of the sky
had woken her and
sometimes...
most of the time
gray clouds are
the alternative
sunrise...

...The journey had taken a little longer than what he had thought. And the heat... the heat was becoming too heavy for a burden. If only his tears would quench his thirst...

...She never believed in
angels
or at least find a reason to
convince her
that each breath is
a miracle...

...He had always thought that sunsets were promises of a solemn night. But as he stood at the edge of a cliff, he knew that that sunset will bring him the coldest eternal night...

...That night though
nothing
seemed
different but
the cold was somewhat heavy
and she couldn't help but think...
God
must be sleeping
again...