Noises, constant struggle,
Ever ending silence,
Pressure robust, indelicate,
Colors touching my dried tongue

My shoes are now heavy,
Sun became an enemy,
This needling sand,
Burden which directs me

I do not stop upon the tombstones,
But I have read every inscription,
Many times,
Reading until the end

I deceive my sight,
With a mirage of a mirror,
With surface all sweaty,
Undusted, begging filth to disappear

Faithfully, I search for a familiar face,
And doubts are all your freckles,
Chewing on my arms,
Never was there a plan

Step by step,
I am being gradually consumed,
A perfected torture,
Every time and always,
A lesser piece left

Now do I crawl,
Or am I painting circles,
This sullen land,
Once your joy,
Now my lair.