I can view the north
in my golden compass,
but can’t find a way;
I can feel the prickly heat
coming from the sun,
but can’t see it anywhere far far away.

I keep moving steady
on my bare feet
to the distinct horizon;
I keep listening sounds
of people chattering
but can’t find one.

I have thirst of water
but can’t find a source;
my stomach is gurgling loud,
but can’t see any generous mocks
with some edibles hanging out.
I faint of fatigue
every step or two,
but don’t fall down at once;
I confess all my sins
to the God,
not witnessed by the priests and nuns.

I hide from the cold
under the hides of wolves,
but can’t stop bleeding from my heart;
the pain and regret deep inside me
keeps stabbing me slowly
with its blunt dart.

I hope every day,
I will discover my way,
but every time
there goes something wrong;
I curse the destiny
for not being with me,
fight off the odds,
being stood strong.