XXV

Four thousand years,
A bit
More; There’s nothing to

Say about

It. I have seen
Destruction, and

Anger. I have felt
The pulsed
Trigger, Thundering in discussion
With the
Dove; Then the fire
Covering two
Eyes, A mouth open,
An ear
Close. But, there’s nothing
To say
About. I have heard
A fragile
Voice, Corrupted after temptation,
Asking for
Freedom Though its arms
Are completely
Free. I have touched
A white
Skin, In silk dressed
To pretend
Existence, To claim property
And confused
Manners. But, there’s nothing
To say
About. I have tasted
The inexistent
Ashes, That once inhabited
The wonder
Land, Now a gentile
Tale to
Tell. I have been
Disrupted in
Seclusion To liberate myself
From hate,
Love. But, there’s nothing
To say
About. I have had
The single
Truth, And the only
Lie of
God. But, there’s nothing
To say
About. It’s a story
To pass
On.