Banished from the sacred house,
Thrown out into the cold, stormy decaying city,
It's misty, allowing the virus to infect,
Will I lose my way and be overcome?
Will I become undone and forget the depth of my teachers..
The growling sounds of an intoxicated soul, everywhere
The witchy laughter of a tormented whore, everywhere
What will I make of them as an object of pity
Their sufferings and the painful screams only remind me of my distance from the house
I cover my scars with art
My immunity only increases the depths of my misery
No relation, just a study
An endless study
I miss the climbing flowers on the wall
I even gave them names
The fresh youthful air
Beyond the pond
Let it stare.
I am no longer there.