Intemperie

Ambushed in the depths of a journey
Of a hundred deserts that don't allow turning back
I feel that the path I've burned every day
Leads me, when it ends, to another desert

But I keep walking in search of some mirage
In case one of them is the sea someday
The ones found so far have only been abysses
That I fell into for not worshiping any altar

Lost the north
The east, the west, and the south
What do they expect with so much hunger
And plagues and wars and deaths in series
If we are all at the mercy
Of the outdoors

And so I keep avoiding tombs as the password
Orphan of stars that guide me to some Sun
But there is no light, no fire, not even firewood
Not even the melancholic night of the sunflower

And even though I know there are no more innocent maps
I drift like my little faith does
In believing I can escape from the intelligent hydra
That pandemonium of power that no one sees