The tear beneath

13 July 2016

It is painful a laugh

At the drowning scene

It is torture to love

At the dawn of the Young age.

And to bleed is a lonely labour

For tears are only for thee

And to pretend is an empty candour

When the scuffle is beneath.

It is a dreadful vision

Blind bullets, bitter concord

It is that crystalline prison

Comfy home, draining patrol.

Here I am lost in a garden of my own

For the dark dimensions are endless

And impossible we roam alone in our blood

No touch, no consolation, no caresses.