I played a game with God.
When I look at the built-in altar in my small flat
Pictures,shapes, feelings
all sort drilled into a universe of sadness.

I fall into the pit again
I kneel,
I pray ,
I beg for atonement for my sins.

I closed my eyes for a moment of silence
I saw some hope
not from my eyes,
But from God's loving eyes.

Seconds later,
I saw my funeral with ten girls around me
laying some flowers on my unloving body
then my body is burned
ashes fall on their dull faces

I woke up from the brown coffin
a cross painted on the end of the coffin
With my migrant name.
Some cheered my death
because I deserved it all,
It's a secret I was not dead at all .
I was just hidden from them for a while.

I was laid among the uncut weeds
which shelter me from the rain,
storm,
mostly from the unkind people.

Sometimes
I gasp for air so much even though I'm on a surface
I-
thirst for the water from where I came from
Yet-
it tastes like vomitted Water.
My lip salivates for I suppose Spring water,
Which nourishes your soul like Holy Water;
But, I think I will only know the Firey water

I-
Am scared
I-
Am scared I will be dehydated,
destroyed because I only know the vomitted Water

Will I ever-
have a sip of Love water?

When will I be able to get out this slender column
bottle?
When will the Owner take the cap away?
He's flicking around it
His hand I can see
but I can't see any other else beside my own.

My tears could compose into a snowball
inside the glass tall bottle
He wouldn't let anyone turn the cap
I don't know his reasons .

I don't know how long
The walls are so slippery, I am pushed down again
It's not just me, others like me, in the sames
are trapped, are batoned, are caned,
inside the tiny hollow bottle .

In our own bottles
it's no less than prison
The hope is the cap
But, When?
Will the cap be opened?
Knock, knock
Is Thou actually listening us?

Maybe you're the one who is drunk on the lies that you spin
I'm seen a big Hypocrite,
Your lies-
Sweeter than honey,
Slowly bashing my nerves.
Maybe you really have no idea when to stop the Oozing-
Your thick sticky needs,
manufacturing, selling, broadcasting.
A rainbow, starry, adjectives of my list
ticked, stamped and tricked.
Nights befall on me
I've been
"Baby'', you call me
I wring in your flattery.
Maybe you should see fewer peonies
and more grasses!

A new-a phone call-
a message from My Protector,
everyone yearns to be protected
loved,
missed,and live.

Days flashed into an alloy of a hut,
skins getting drier,eyes getting sharper
the tiles of my floor replace into new shapes
to give in to my wild desire.
Maybe I'm still in the wrong time,
or maybe it's my Karma, to live, and wait.
I suppose-
I shall never hear the sharp metallic ring
attached on the back door.

We March to the altar.
Where we made hereafter promises
imperfection in the hands
you fie in your own seeds.

Hatred brand like a glamour knife
flashing in the air,the yellow air you know:
the red blind you strike
shall now be stamped in your eyes.

I'm very distant from the City
There are no organs, just guts,
just ghastly, random blood
that mystify not me.
Trivial things, I mind
awakening to the trickle of the rain water
I, am not absorbed by the plague;
Just a little bit lost in the well-litted room.