A soft, but me,
black moon...

I will gather you-
through the uproar...

Night comes like a
black dog...

Between the hope and
betrayal lies the truth...

Poised to confront
the improvised explosive device...

In-between the spaces
body moves...

You were shrinking
like microcephaly...

Was it kosher to wake
up a sleeping poem, when...

Like today.
I walk myself, in my footprints...

The cells,
climb the fame...

The shadows sit,
under the words, to torture...

Are you there to listen
my voice...