Gravel Testo

A mouthful of gravel,
another fucking dead weight.
The further we travel,
the shade is near but the heat is great.

A fathomless distance,
fire dances in the air.
I long for the cool shelter,
before I piss my fluid being away.
Grazed knees and bloodied palms,
the hot rocks pick at my flesh.
Crawling to the refuge,
that seems to refuse me.

And we gather, the sky has opened.
I'll hide in the shade, where it's safe for me.

Laying on blisters and dead soil.
The shade beyond my grasp.
The rain fails to extinguish my skin.

I will lay here, dying.
Celestial realms my final comfort.
My shallow lungs collecting warm sand.