may the road rise with you

the final scenery. the piles of thousands of bodies. the sun is the only warm thing in the area. it is impossible to prove if someone was right. the vision is precise and clear. even the smallest detail can be seen. there are wires everywhere weaving their own desperate flight from history. several shadows of trees. the light cannot bear the unclear margins. the dead wind. the eyes that won't perish in sunset anymore. the final spectacle. no hands to separate the broken leaves. no more memories. just the immesurable madness of freed landscape.

::: your time has come your second skin the cost so high the gain so low walk through the valley the written word is a lie :::