You said you were grief, the marbled tears will not flow.
Was it not much softer to accept life as a design of death?
You needed the continuity of the sorrow.
Why were you seeking the ending?
The visible effect was mirage, the guilt of genocide.
We emptied our tattoos on the road, driving the emotions to insanity.
Everything moved towards the precipice, rejecting the sky.
Sorrow was part of joy, my adversary.
I wished to separate the fear from the cells.
The pain of perennial setbacks chipped away the ladders.
I stood there at the level of death, demanding rocks.
