Delusions.

Half a year has passed,
Since last I was home,
In this foreign land,
Many strangers have become friends,

Charred and Scared,
My heart bled,

Time passed,
together with the pain,

The rustling of the leaves;
Symbol of an approaching storm,

and whilst the cold wind caresses my skin,
I remember the times when I was home,
Truly, home..

For what is a man,
If he has nowhere to lay his head?
Whats has a man got?
If not himself.