…Seven years
of ambivalent breathing
holding a dull pencil
Trying
to inscribe my feelings with
the burden of a stone slab
on my weak lap…
The sun is already high
hunger is the boogeyman and the thirst
I know
will be my vessel
to meet the boatman
Vultures feast
ravaging the gold
Leaving me within the bounds
of corroded steel and clouded skies
Drowning in waters where
society
thrives
Each wave chokes me
with the taste of their bile
I’m tired…
Home is nowhere
but in my heart
I know it’s
somewhere
within that horizon…


Mek
Dec08