Was it necessary to see, what you wanted me to see, when I was keeping open my wound to hear the unheard scream? What was that which was getting in air? A little disjointed time, asking peace for the land to stop the moulding on the medallions?
The divide and hate, the hate and divide the kill, the kill, the kill of mercy and this was to be believed, not to believe in the grim fate of the fall. Pain was you, was me, was him the guilt of chewing polluted words to accept the uncertain, the naked lies.
Blood was on shirt, blood was on sheet blood was on paper, blood was in eyes.