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What waits from the Gates of Death
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Camino Under the orange haze of dying sky, he stood; full of anxiety and tension;
full of conflict, as they prepared for the coming night.
From places unseen, the sorrow of the dead echoed faintly on the fleeing wind.
As if seeking refuge like the worms that crawl from long dead cadavers,
cries of the tormented clawed at the gates of a distant hell.
In his ears pain and suffering had found home.
As he looked into the horizon, he wondered how much longer they would last.
How much longer could they continue to run?
Eventually the stalking death would find them.
Would they stand and fight now, or keep running for as long as they could?
Looking down, he closed his eyes.
