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