i'm slashing through the jungle,
blinded by sweat and the flies attracted to my stink,
spinning in fear of suspected tigers,
hoping to make them shy at the sight of my face,
the creepers are tripping me, grabbing me confusing me,
have i been along this path before?
the jungle grows faster than i can cut,
my face is sticky with spiderwebs,
and my claustrophobia screams for a clearing,
screams for an unobscured view of the sky.
but i'll tell you, strangely it feels more like swimming,
like dreaming,
my feet may be trapped in mud,
but i'm as light as the morning air.
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