Out of the dung
desert on the verge of the forests
lost tribe curiosity forming
survival often the only dream
Sometimes no shelter from the weather
predators touching on the periphery
Vicious eyes on human flesh
hungry guts claws furrs and feathers
Tribe tracking down their local killers
fear in the footsteps
senses sharpened
Out of the waste with primitive weapons
Brains thumping on psilocybin
club in hand grin on face
The prints lead into a cave
curiosity and hunger
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