Poem -

Orchestra of the Madness

Orchestra of the Madness

When you are born in the pride
from the womb of your father
you realize that you are exiled
and nothing host you in rather

When you slap the water a bit
with the hands of droughtness
you realize that you are a desert
and the clouds of emptiness

When you die metaphorically
no tomb to hold you at all
so bury yourself tragically
between the flesh and the soul