Music rumbles… and I can only hear but the wheels of time running freely.

Been gone for long, now. I’ve left home without looking back, and am pretty sure things are left unchanged. With my hands, I’ve buried my parents unhesitatingly. On my own, I’ve dug. Overinformed by misinformed illiterate, their voices wouldn’t get out of breath. 

Then I beated the ground, again & again, relentlessly, until their voices wiped out, at last. 

The walk can begin now. 

I’m moving alone in the corridors of Death. 

Cries and humiliations continue. So I dig again, in vain, until my hands get useless. 

Still, this ground is ours, so I struggle to rip it open and materialize my way.

Dispirited earth from soiled steps. 

In times of oppression, it’s hard to find one’s place. On those paths we’ve crawled until bogging down. 

And my pain is harder to bear. And still, I keep on going, tirelessly. 

I eventually got to the point that they are the ones feeding me. So I shall remain on the floor, gazing at them from far away, for I found the place where I belong.


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