Between of Ruins

I am tripping between of Ruins
It stopping and blowing again undecided winds.
Screaming on my head a crow,
does it call my disaster or warning me?
It cannot talking that, how can l know.

I am tripping between of Ruins
Outside blowing undecided winds.

Street singing it's song with pell-mell
Dustbins full,
how many people even eat, all the same
hungry soul.

First, had l where from begun to travel?
How many days how many months
Maybe years?
Anymore l Can't know
I can't know anymore
Where is paradise, where is hell...