The Corpses Resided in my Heart
The ashes of my corpse should've been anchored far away in the flowing water. Yet, why is my carcass still mourning its ribs that were pulled away? My soul is trapped inside of my skull and tortured by the rays of disappointed sun that clawed on its roots. Through my blood hatred resided, yet it died. When I died, so did it.
My lips were opened, yearning to mutter a farewell. But who was it to do what it wasn't allowed to? The words were caught in my dry throat, it had died. It was like standing in the fields of flower, in the blue of the spring, with my bones rotten and red flowers grew from the sockets of my eyes. My body was pitied but wasn't even burned. For, to whom my ashes would've come back? I’d hear the whisper of breeze that once kissed my warm face, when my heart was beating like the flapping of butterfly’s wings. It was blue, so was my youth. I was gonna grow wings, but I was already rotten. Who screamed? Whose voice haunted my cut ears?
They went through the skin of my back, tearing it apart. They shedded my red blood as their tears. They took away the bones of my body for their delicate wings. Red as wine. They would drink it with a joyous screech from the hell. And I would be chained with my back torn and unflapping wings. A hand reached, going past the strings of red, pulling away the land where my loved ones resided. It was fed to the beasts, I was chained. Even the red flowers let my skull cry out with its crimson drops. And a butterfly flew through the air, kissing my forehead before my soul was put to an exile.
A faith was made for the human ones. It was fading, was I the devil? If to be a human is to believe, then, does one losing faith does not count as one? If the call from Place of Worship, if the ringing bell, that was pulling out the beliefs out of the core of my existence, will I be exiled? Or thrown out from the place in the sky that is connected through every whisper of worshippers, to the mud below the green earth?
If love truly what was deserved for every creation, then, why would everything end with misery in its roots?
