I live in the foundation of an abandoned village
My home is overgrown with weeds and bones of past lives
My edges are burned by the fire of my enemies
The skeleton of my village is held by the residue of hope
Too hot that the blood that falls from my people's wounds boil away
Too cold for any beautiful thing to ever grow
I live in the foundation of an abandoned village
Where my skin has fallen into the dirt
Where my bones rot every time my lungs try to give me air
Where wars have rattled my skeleton
Where love has failed to build my home again
I live in the foundation of a dying village
But the roof still protects my remains from the storm.