The joy of fear

Sleepingly I wander
through the deserted land.
Flaming wind burns my body.
I hear something circling above me.
No, I will not sleep, I´ll go on.
My eyes are closed, but ears hear all.
They want to get me, but I´m still awake.
I will not run, but not let them
to catch me. They never get,
what I´m looking for.
I´m becoming a part of the sand storm,
the seventh day of sorrow, the joy of fear.
No, you don´t understand me,
though you listen to me.
No, I´m not afraid,
I don´t understand myself.
Now I just dream and
they are disappearing in the storm.
It´s not me now,
only the dust stays in the snad.
I´m becoming a part of this storm
the seventh day of sorrow, the joy of fear.