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

Rabbit

People spit daggers

remorselessly.

The cornered rabbit

squeals agonizingly.

Between the sky and Earth

there is always a trap.

I have stepped into it

countless

days

to count my madness backwards

to day 0.

My guardian angel

must have been amused,

setting my soul free

among the vultures,

while I dreamed

of the moment of glory,

when my clock would sound the bell

of crashing skies.

Even as the glass,

shattered before the rabbit,

stood suspended

momentarily,

I put a hand out,

I lured it to run,

to hide

within the prison of the

rabbit hole.

It fell.

The rabbit dangles,

hanged by the ears.

It hates, but it doesn't,

in mere disappointment,

constrained by inability.

The rabbit dangles,

by the leash

of the world.

God, have mercy on it!