• I walk and walk,
    with burning feet,
    I see miles,
    and miles,
    of the same landscape,
    Wondering for the light,
    at the end of the tunnel,
    As i walk and walk,
    i become tired flimsy and thirsty,
    A drink of water,
    would be heaven,
    to a man with a dieing illness,
    I decide to take a rest,
    So i lay down on the hard floor,
    and lay my head on a cold rock,
    and fall asleep.