The smell of charred wood fills my nostrils, I jump back in revolt
My eyes scan this barren land, I want to jump back on the boat
As my once violently pulsating heart beat, is mercilessly broke
My dehydration peals at my existence, resistant to hopes
Lost, distant I poke, through the reminiscence and probe
My mind, to try to find, the reason I, have crossed the globe
Surely this isn’t my land of dreams, my anticipated paradise?
No sign of life, nor death it seems, I feel I’m an isolated parasite
The only survivor from my heroic team, which fled to freedom over night
The wind whips upon me as if to disagree, with my solemn and lonely plight
My demise is affirmative, with no sources of life, I will soon diminish
The next time I sleep will be permanent, I dream of my child hood village
The mud houses we lived in, the demonic symbols on the wall
I have fled for my religion, but for my religion I will fall
My captors have lost, but Satan himself has made me crawl
To the deepest pit of society, so I write my memoirs with a scrawl
Over this blood stained skin, of a large beast recently mauled
I have to eat the rotten flesh, or else eat nothing at all
The tantalizing colours of the sunset drown my eyes with sorrow
As I accept that my declining life, will be gone by tomorrow
I run my fingers along the stones that protrude from this cave
I have never been so alone, as I proceed to dig my own grave
I lay in this pit, close my eyes, try to rest my soul and sleep
Seconds before my life has quit, I remember my home and weep
*Documenter speaks*
“The man who wrote these memoirs was never found, he is believed to have survived
Personally I think he’s gone…………..what’s that? I can’t believe my eyes!!!!!’
The documenter disappeared………….just vanished from view
Stay clear from here….the survivor could be waiting for you