No Title!

My body lays idle like a corpse but it has got no shame
It breathes and smells the soil
And pretend to move in the whiff that brings the news of rain;
It still thinks breathing makes us alive
The smell of the soil soaked with blood,
It thinks, profusely makes our senses shiver in half-truths.

Yet, this body lays idle
In the streets, in the fields, in the mortuary
Everywhere it goes, like a stone seeking redemption
In silence and solitude, and in defeats!
Looking at it,
It seems I have become so death
That there is no dream for me;
Looking at it,
It seems breathing is all that I can do.

***(August 23, 2009)***