Salvatore, a liar for love
Generation of curses
I trod back to my famished village–
Rolling storm, ready to strike,
Poverty and despair fed my eyes, sated,
Tho my heart a hungry street dog biting off people’s faces.
‘How in the heavens! a keen creature like you got lost in the suns shade’,
O, how will I word it was all for your blooming days, my petals all stamped and rotten,
How will I tell them about the eastern redbud lit I saw in your eyes as the spring hit,
How will I tell them about your bare head adorned in crispy, red fronds– autumn days.
O, how will I tell them I got lost in the depths of a lie, all blue-black,
For they thought of me as a Salvatore that embraced them in the nectar of heavenly bliss,
O, how will I tell these mere side bees I let myself dim for you to shine–
Darker the sky, brighter the stars.
I cry in their faces with a smile,
‘O, I would lead you, folks, to the mountains of harmony, where peace thrived and poverty died’,
O, my lies– sharp razors cutting in raw flesh.
They sip my words with their hearts ripped open,
Later stitched as I end each sentence with a heavy breath,
O, for I was a disguised slave rat letting my people die, all for the greed of one– me,
I let love destroy me– 'let’,
O, the guilt ate me up every time the clock moved,
The hands, daggers, slipping through my skin and poking my eyes.
And as the world smoldered,
I could scream the truth filtered from the lie,
But I let it burn in the fire of purity,
Your wax-smelted presence breezes through the ashes,
For one look at your eye was worth a generation of curses.
