This is our home.

I ran and ran,
Past the skyscrapers and old huts,
The concrete jungles and corruption,
Away from the sins, away from it all.

In sadness and loneliness I collapse,
Acid gnaws my muscle and tears run free,
My chest explodes and away the black butterflies hovered,
Is this the end, is this death?

An old man hobbled by,
With a nudge of his cane and a palm he helped me up,
'Come my child, let's go far away,
To the place where there is no corruption, that is where we belong'.

I thought and I thought,
And I was left confused,
'Where is that?' I asked,
Somewhere hidden under the concrete, in the office, in our dreams?

The old man left a trail in the sand,
A few quick glances and he was gone,
The trail stopped at the edge of the cliff,
To the naked eye it did, to mine, it stretched further.

I understood and I smiled,
Brushed the leaves and twigs off me,
Ran along the trail and closed my eyes,
I felt the wind caress me and say 'Careful, child.'

The trail exploded into a million colours,
Each pointing towards the path that was meant for me,
At the end, the old man beckoned,
Come my child, we are close.

I ran with all my might,
Grasped the extended hand,
Opened my eyes and I screamed out loud,
All I saw was the sea and the rocks and the bodies laid to rot.

Again the old man said,
'Come my child, let's go far away,
To the place where there is no corruption, that is where we belong'.
I grasped his hand and thought.

This is where we belong.


A/N: O.o I know, what the fuck right... I need help... Hahaha... Anyways, feedback; as always, A guitar will be shoved up your ass with a bucket of salt to go with it. Le Sigh...