About this image

Wooden hearts and fiery souls
As they walk in alien lands
Deprived of family and mother earth
Ever changing paths, intangible desires

Never one of them, always one alone
Flying moths around fake-fires
Trying to find a place to rest
No motionless grave to lay on

Never to stay, but always coming back
Home burdening their shoulders
Eyes always up to the sky
Hoping that the harsh season will one day come to an end.