You stare at me and I feel as if,
I am a deserted desert within,
Waiting to be caressed by an aggressive second self.
Like dust or green foliage or grey smoke,
I expand till I touch God’s lips !
I bloom and then burst out and engulf my own shadows
With an uncanny feeling of restless re incarnation.
Oleanders ruin dreamy cells with the passionate urge of a mad infant
Or a slain hawk.
Twisted timber floating upon grey water pierce through
The colonized century’s awakening corpse !
A dark peasant’s glance derives strength from the dance
Of the groaning beast,
That sways and spreads up rays
Of brutal innocence.
They speak and die on the bed of lies
And cut off all ties
With the snoring whore,
Waiting for a tomb of sacred light.
A big, fleshy part empowers a Tyrant’s lust for power –
Right to fight
And to begin a journey forgetting about the sweeping tide
Of a bloody midnight !
Crows and sparrows aspire for a sadist’s last laugh,
That the sinking woman loves,
When water engulfs her white cells of pale breasts!
The sacred smoke engulfs the retreating vampire’s swollen tongue of merciless blunder.
The second self emerges,
Though the womb is too burdened to bear with the catastrophic disaster.
I utter thy name again and again
And sing the song of treacherous hearts
And stolen dreams.