by Francesca Morosi

Created on: June 04, 2008   Last Updated: November 06, 2008

And your voice to deaden slowly

To a barely audible sound

The walk is longing for rest

Life is fading its colours

The lines on your face

A jigsaw of human discontent

You remember

The throwing arms of children

Emptied in their joyous disbelief

You forget

Scrounging out people's miseries

Your heart like blind folded

Just a varicose pass to get through

Quenching your thirst

With your own saliva

Left your throat too sore to speak

And now your tongue desists

Rolling back arid

You rummage through your pockets

A tiny washed out piece of paper

Maybe a ticket to heaven

Your beady eyes scampering

Beams of light behind that line

Your search is vain

The walk too long

Your feet left traces behind you

But there is no return

There is a gleam beyond that horizon

You never tempered enough to reach it

Obedient soldier in vacuous swaying

Dampening your enthusiasm

In more self-piteous enjoyment

With tedious dismay

As symbiotic companion

You crossed innocent lives

And punished indistinctively

A cloudburst is on its way

The whimpering donkey

Gives signs to his pals

You shake your legs in delirium

And let this desolate valley be your tomb

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