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It's just twenty five miles away, I'm already tired,
I keep moving feet I no longer feel,
from the knees down I'm dead,
but I've advanced too much to surrender.

Attached to my belt is my clock,
If I put it on my wrist I could get assaulted.
I start thinking how bad idea it was to wear a black shirt
feeling the unforgiving sun cooking me as I go on.

The snake I made is tied,
hitting my leg as I walk,
in my face I feel sweat, maybe blood,
maybe birdshit.
No.
It's rain, holy cold rain hitting my face
with the sound of thousands of glass pieces falling
I open my arms to the embracing rain, happiness.
I could or couldn´t reach my destination,
But this gift from te skyes has just made my whole travel worth it.