These Few Hours

  I’d climb mountains,
Stumble over rocks and trip
On steeps. My aching feet clenching
The grass.

Wiggling my toes, I feel
Myself coming to ease.

Autumn springs and blue seas;
Furious wind, crashing waves,
Small talks and silent laughs.
These few hours....

Rotten bark, full living trees.
Sudden outbursts and pretending me.
Rough roads scarping my heels.

Falling down, bleeding knee.
Scratched palms and painted nails; thinking twice
Before I end up dead. 
Scars and bruises that stain my flesh.
Unforgettable sorrows, unbearable deaths.
These few hours.... await my death.