STILL BORN

Still born, yes I am.

I hear the screams and yet,

I choose to plug

My ears with indifference.

Multitudes keep groaning

But the voices die out before

Appealing to my human essence.

The sights: dance of death,

Slaughtered hope, bleeding desires

And despair’s effervescence

I’m blind to this

And I’m blind to that

Comfortable in my icy coherence.

The stench of burning flesh

Or the stinking hopelessness

Or even the smell of rotting innocence

I smell not

For I can not

Discriminate reek from fragrance.

A few want, need, desire

My voice that may calm

And all they get is silence in abundance.

I sever my tongue

I sew my lips

For I can not give any assurance.

Still born I was.

Still born I am.

Still born I will be.