Staring at the half-wheeled vessel of my
reputation
Filtering through my troubled eyes is the
edgy harbor
When pierced and through my marks fairly
deep
Could vouch others of my innocence
My innocence towards a sin that has been
For an unexpected deception and for a
seamless line that
Might show a malice to a selective collect
of authorities
Authorities I had never known showed their
sheer shape
In a world of barren jungle, then suddenly
imposed their
Rules upon us, like the white closing upon
a fence of the natives
And hunt us down like a hungry beast
quenching its thirst
Only through the sap of condemnation and feigned
justice
But when it is settled, is it indeed a
spring of deep sorrow
A sorrow that cannot be corrected just like
a deep furrow
Scarred on my face, once again reminding me
of my own shame
And I always try, try hard to kick myself
out of the whirlpool and
Kill my birthplace, but it’s embroidered
too deep into my skin I keep
Digging into my volatile skin but end up
with ragged blood
If only blood would wash everything down, would
I not be merry and content?
But it only leads to sheer vain
My pain eventually lessening, another sign
of shame to me
A reinforcement of a stranger’s
perspective, a sharp, beckoning one
Like the blue walls approaching me with
such ferocity that drowns me
Drowns me with its blue arms, whispering to
me, shouting at me discreetly
Of my selfishness, my pride and all the air
that keeps me floating in a sky
Of nothingness, though somehow I am fooled
by the sturdiness it pretends
You are such, and you shall live that
much
