The unknown

Landscapes run in front of me :
A sleeping city under fading lights
waiting for the sun's lips to chase the night
A sunflower field, head to the ground
Waiting for the sun to reveal its gown

Nature seems to be nagging at me :
When I plant my walking stick deep in the ground
Crows fly to its left
Crows fly to its right
There are no oracle to tell me
Wether it is an ominous omen
Wether it is an auspicious one

I can't go back, the dark swallow my path
I can't see forth, light isn't yet born
I feel like a blinded man

This is how our journey began