14th January 2002
The Sphere of Dull Stars
I hold rubies that stain my hands,
rose petals that weep.
Eyes watch, voices curse. Imposing figures
cast spells that condemn ravaged bodies
nto the deep,
tepid waters where pain swells
and recedes its violent tempo.
I exist in this desolate eternity,
the sphere of dull stars.
Hands grope, mouths plead. Time’s audacity
alone decides
who ends and who must remain
in pain’s tides;
the shadow of Mars
in the atmosphere as ash.