I Am Not ‘I’ Anymore
A loaded gun over my worn-out shoulder
a dagger to slash throats in my side-pocket
a coal-painted face
a mind plundered by frenzy of fear
I walk slowly, zigzagging through the trees
looking for food among the dead
in their full back-pack.
After all the learning
trainings, boot-camps
building muscles that could
even compete with Hercules
I become a soldier
to defend my homeland.
I may lose all of that in a lame instant
to be vernalized into transient heroism
Death has sneaked behind me frequently
I have wandered through the garden of the dead
into the void land
Now, I can tell you that in a desert
you don’t need a name
neither a dream, nor laws of the cities
you may confide in your shadow
under the zinc desert- moon, your sole companion
some may need a good karma
or a key to paradise
Suddenly, my past, as trivial as it may have been
turns into the most valuable treasure
and pulls me through the dust, disoriented
Yet, I know I’ll be lost
between my silent breath and
the winning death
I can’t even have a mirage