I was born and I have learned to hate, I have learned to separate the soul from flesh. I have learned that it is not my breath, but that of a God I do not know, of beliefs I am told to hold. I will let this go. “The only way through this terror of life is this divine light”, have a look and read with me. God said, Allah said, Abraham, Judas they demand, they demand such small things, so you can be pardoned for your sins. Oh what do I have to be sorry for, I have learned to fail? One small sip from the grail of your sins father, teach me things I dare not dream. Teach me things to make sense of it all, why do I breathe so shallow now? Why can I not remember the faces of those I love? I am slowly fading away. Oh pity to us our great Gods are finer in robes of cotton, of braille in bones, this blood and tears I can feel in each seam. I dare not ask anymore, I dare not dream. Bury me slowly, so I do not know how I suffocate. Bury me slowly, so I may reproduce this hate. Let me teach it to my sons and daughters, let them know what I am by making them the only man I ever knew. How can I get through to you? Volatile and fragile, we are children bearing children; failures of our fathers and their fathers and the fathers before them. So we are taught, what have we learnt?
And when we dissipate into the fibres of the earth, nothing will remain. Convolute with oneself, to embark from the shade to reach full potential. Memories will shatter like glass. Ignore distress and disorder. Before it will be too late to see what could have been. What could have been