Ascent I

Mother cries while he dies inside

The hut, surrounded by family ties-

I'm cut- of course the gods tell us lies

We have no food nor drink, and every wake reminds:

We're on the brink, teetering on the edge of extinct

I can't fish: disowned, a scatter-brained atheist

So I'll pack my bags, Mama please lose no sleep!

I need to go find SOMETHING for you and me

So bless my feet, let me run

Against the wind...

In search of hope: in search of Sun