House of Stone Mass Grave
The wind of change
Blew off dust settled on my eyes,
I saw living corpses
Strolling the streets of urban.
It blew away the cloth
Tied around my face,
I beheld the mass grave
Of peasant farmers who died
From void promises for land.
The wind erased
Rhetoric from my psyche,
I discovered the skeletal currency;
Bones of a long breath departed economy.
I saw dead hospitals,
The ill buried alive in their homes.
I am a son of the soil
Living in a mass grave House of Stone.
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