Campfire under the storm clouds..
I lay on my back and see the smoke and lightning..
Sun dried creek welcomes the storm..
But its all flash and no rainfall..
Blue blazing sky..
I walk alongside this thirsty creek..
This world gone mad..
I walk aimlessly alone..
I awoke this morning to an old song playing in my dream..
The lighting above was the electric strings..
With every arc there was a musical note..
And the thunder sang the lyrics to me through the smoke..
I hear voices not to far away..
They turn into screams..
And then into begging..
Someone has died..
For someone to live..
Which is why I travel alone..
Always leaving..
Never arriving..