1.

dawn
grayness turning pink and orange mist
upon the crooked vines, the fragrant rows of trees

i see only a wasteland, as my brother's face brushes past
"i am human,"
"i am free,"
i breathe
in and out

in and out
Abel is crying, sobbing softly,
broken in the fields
ever so faintly the echo fades

"Murderer, murderer,"  my conscience screams
screaming into my daylight dream of guilt and remorse

i bolt upright in flames of pouring sweat
the finger of God pointing
firmly at  me

2.
the serpent will not visit me now or again
of this i am certain

but with elongated, ***** fingers
i have given shape to the swirling
shroud of blood that surrounds me

i am encapsulated by regret
with a curious ambivalence of the will
i cast off
the cloak that splatters
into a thousand drops of wine-red liquid

reminiscences, shadows and reflections:
sorrowful leaves sparkling with the glint
of the dazzling morning light

all this and more lies scattered on the wind

my struggle is so heavy; the flames consume so much

wearily i lay myself down to rest
to breathe deeply in this stark, elusive silence:
the silence of the moral void

rest in weariness, rest
and the unpredictable predispositions of divine justice
will expand and divide ever so slowly
with the course of my dreaming

i am  human; i am free; yet i still cannot scrub
the blood stains off my hands.
they leave a mark
that will never leave me

murderer, brother, i am resigned
to suffer the plight of eternity
alone

i am human
i am free
no longer