Poezja

Resisting your wisdom 
I want to remain, thoughtless. 
Not bargaining, I come in the crowd, 
to negotiate a stunt. 
 
The awakening, 
the trepidation. I pay honour 
to the great stress angler― 
my poverty of cruel jokes. 
 
Like a fox to reignite― 
the identity. I will move away 
from the body of blood soaked denials 
standing alone, against the genocide. 
 
Was still hungry, eating 
your violet-red― plums. Not was whole, 
the controversy. Somewhere a 
forensic evidence will say, mask was not real.