I visit that place often
where the road takes a blind turn
walk along all the lost men
in them wildfires burn.

I visit that place often
where the road is a fossil
of past years' left behind pain
that rancours inside still.

I visit that place often
where still stands the ruin
of all the grown men
who once there had been.

I visit that place often
where lie the ashes' urn
sigh the souls of dead men
killed by lovers' spurn.

I visit that place often
for it's where I made a start
to gather first grain of corn
heart's first stardust.