And we may not know
Sometimes the most bloodthirsty revenge
Is the murder of our own feelings.
Through days and nights
Flown by the cold spirits we have piled within
We hear opposing whispering voices:
"You shall take revenge
From those who have not been there for you
They who left you alone.
Who judge you by your skin and your home.
You shall take revenge
By your nonbeing."
We may know that feeling
Of death while we uphold a healthy living.
"The burn of inferiority "
Caused by our skin,
"You want it peeled."
You are feeling great within.
A life that we live to sacrifice to those others,
"Surely enough, they deserve life more than you. Yes!"
No!
"And their loved ones and their lovers
And the ones who rule to keep the world in peace
For themselves, and in war for the others
To protect the ones who deserve life more than you."
We wish to run but soon enough
We wish to rest in peace.
We are tired.
We are washed out in our flesh
We are aware
Our fatigue
Comes from our tired soul,
"Lost and confused. Stay in control!"
After so many deadly troubles,
We who are one more time healthy and alive,
We ourselves wonder:
"How you took your own flesh to its knees
So severe that
For making it stand up again,
For making it live up again,
There is no way
But wishing for more death?"
It is a strange humbleness.
"Its existence lies on the pride of not getting any help."
It is a strange pride
"The size of jumping out the balcony in underwear"
And we somehow
Judge each other's
Dry motionless eyes
Of belonging to selfish ego maniacs.
And we have learnt
Lock pickers at any moment
Are one step ahead
As their master words
Are cunning
And they give no chance
