Barefoot. Water on the ground.
The wind on my hair, the trees
shield the sun. I hear something
like a whisper behind my back.
But all these visions are dreams
wrecking my nights, punishing me
like deads coming from the grave.
I’m just the guilty one, the guilty one,
the guilty one. And I don’t have remedies.
But God’s the only way. I’ll be back in peace.