dark hollow orbs
are crossed by the simoom of ignorance
The ears are not enough
And where there is neither day nor night ..
they Creepingly
Fumble with sharp rock heads
To draw a map in touch memory.
Great horn laments
So they point their ears towards the sky ...
The lovebird flies, running away, breaking leagues of flame like a black arrow
To pollute the purity of sadness
orbs sign without no goale
Confusion pours out of the sweat of sins
and horn laments
Behind the crowds
There are mountains of skulls
And in front of them the darkness of their orbs
And above them the horn groans
And below them are Fangs of rocks like butcher knives.
creeping slowly
Ants overtake them
Lizards, spiders and birds
And the monsters prey on the last of them..and keep howling and besiege them ...
Sometimes they leave them to propagate
Desert hurricanes accumulate sand particles inside their orbs..
They wipe it off with their swollen fingers.
it comes out with some blood, mucus and pus.
and worms that grow in the hollow of exhausted bodies..
They are still productive despite everything ...
Still