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