It takes so much effort to separate the present from the past
I am a dam on the verge of breaking
I am a damned one
And the waves are coming, surge by surge by surge
I am eroding
No holds barred.
So we speak to each other, but don’t believe what we say
So we listen to each other, we don’t hear either way
So we fight for each other, in the hope of getting martyred
Death would make everything easier – if it’s not by the tide.
The wind is howling
Where once there were walls, shelter and safety, there is nothing
The wind bears no scent, and no color, and no taste
The wind is empty
And so am I
After the wave