4 • For who once lived there

Never-ending lands ahead, these giant rocks covered in green I see on the other side of the coast, are what once was a house.

Destroyed by the wind, erased by the water, just remainings that remind home.

The grass is where ancients were used to lay their heads.

Walking through the sites for who once lived there, just ruins of stones it may seem.

Nothing replaces the campfires after each storm.

Now it's just a long never-ending mark on the ground.