Buried beneath the crevices of my hand
are million of lost laughter and broken kites
and tattered petals.
I can feel the crying bursting off my veins
popping out of my eyes
louder than the staccato of guns in the mountains.
This war is in my heart,
why can’t I kill you at once?
What prevents me from pulling the trigger?
Why can’t I kill you? What do I fear?
Nothing is sacred,
nothing can’t be traversed,
vengeance are spiky stares,
are barbed wires,
are thorns forced upon my head.
Why is it that when I look at you
I see my ferocious eyes,
I see my cowardice,
I see my sins.
Why do I hear pulse throbbing
each time I aim my gun at you?
Why am I so afraid to kill you/
LIFE HAS NO LIGHT without death.
I just want to spread light
so that we may know life better.
But why is death so elusive, why?