STIGMATA - Political Musings of Unrequited Love by Ruxandra Duca - HTML preview

Deserts

Sands flow according to the seasons,

where I stand,

motionless in disrespect to greed.

Stars drench me

in oblivion.

I cast the dice upon darkness.

White and black, against each other,

red and yellow, against each other.

The teacher stands motionless in disrespect to gravity,

on a mound of shamelessness,

preparing his lesson,

for when the house of cards

burns.

Deserts bow their nightly cold before me.

I sat with Jesus among the dunes.

I tempted him,

I scorned,

I cried.

Just as the sun forgets to spare the thirsty children,

so we desert ourselves,

and pity deserts humanity,

among the dunes.