I am tired. tired to the bone. i need to go, to a place where no madness is. i need to go, to a place where the sea and i can kiss, where my feet can sink without death, the sand is both warm and cold. i am tired. tired to the bone. let me get up from this place and walk, my spirit will slowly walk, tred with uncertain steps out of this wasted land, for callous hearts and empty spirits, no human soul exists here. they have, here, illusions and smoke screens, filled to the green with fool's gold. grotesque mummifications of stillborned hopes and dried up dreams. i am so tired. tired to the bone.