Sick

Walking, forever, endless seas, deserts surrounding me.
Who are these people, no longer members of my family.
What have you done, brother of mine?
Out of the corner of my eye I see them dead and dying on the
highway and no way to save them.
Remember, but learn to forget.
I smoke one more cigarette.
I try to escape this horrible vision.
As I see the evil encircle the world.
My world, my broken tribe.

I've seen it all in a vision in a dream.
Some sick dying vine, that will never produce jovial wine.