The calling

Walking alone I go aimlessly
Condemned to roam around endlessly
I have no choice I see no escape
I hear no voice but I feel a shape

It takes my breath makes me blind
Sufocates myself uneasy unkind
I have to flee where to I don’t know
Myself I am seeking for a place to go

My foe is persistent follows me straight
It traces my paths, disguised soul mate
Never know where I go however I should
Digging deep holes on the route of the woods

My enemy goes seeking virile and secure
It chases my shadows determined obscure
I have nowhere to go, nowhere to sleep
My paths are dirty my roads are steep

I move to the left swerve to the right
My sensory nerve sticks my spine
It’s fear it’s dread that keeps me awake
The devil inside shows me the stake

I know that running I cannot avoid
I am falling decayed, weak paranoid
I refuse to listen, I hold my breath
However I feel it’s the calling of the Death

by Flávio