Whistling through the hollow bones
The brain is numb, but it never shuts up, floor is cold but the feet don't stop walking
Emptiness fills me uptil the throat, fear drills deep into the core
Gloom and darkness are my good old friends
Slowly I drain, drain out of energy
Breathing is tough, the ash filled air blocks the passage, the smoke hurts my eyes
But I move because I think I am strong. I can tolerate it.
I know I will come out of it, I know that this will pass. But I will drag myself, drag myself ahead as long as I feel out of order.
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