Tall, I grasp the sky with all its matter
I pull its gown like a discontent child
Suffering of severe injustice passed off as mild
My heart throbs, cracking my ribs
As Death covers up its lips;
In deep panics I submerge
Independent of a grudge.
In these shallow depths of hell
Chimes a sorrowful black bell
Deafening to match the braille
On the fingerless prisoners' mail.
I exhale my last goodbye
Into fragile lullabies...
And so dull and still I cry
As I open to the skies.
