Tribal Dance

de Hawthorn

Darkness appear in front of the moon,
The night seems to be alive
Weeping and gnashing of teeth can be heard as a choir
Announcing decadent chaos and the end of hope
People wandering without life,
Illuminated by the dim light of hope,
That follows them into empty paths
And in the moments that the flesh is weak
As they walk feeling that breeze blowing,
Cooling fresh tears that make their face wet
They run, guided by fear, traveling in deadly dreams
Deceiving themselves just for a moment
While they stay stuck in the cold floor of misery,
They try to run away from the light that reveals their failures

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