Walking Out Out of the City

The sanctified burial ground expresses
miles of unrestraint,
a death-walk to the clouds,
a beautiful land to be consumed by my feet.

Death, guide me through to where no people reside
so I can be happy in life's comfort,
however brief.
Let us walk to no man's land,
my feet are aching!

- We conquer old Europe,
travel to its peaks,
sleep in corners of
magnificent cities.

O spirit of the poet guide me where you trod,
make heavy steps happy for there is scarcity of food!

- Everest!
Your summit calls me to sleep
with Nature once more:
Sleep! And Eternal peace.