My Burnt Town

You have finally returned, but to a ghost town Where the delusion of red fruit Swings on the dried branches of barren trees Nothing moves amongst the rubbles, but the bony hands of the wind My grey memories are dancing to the song of the chilling wind Right At the feet of the brick wall I once laid You have finally returned, but to your black widow Whom every night wraps her soul’s ruins In a well tied garbage bag, behind the wooden doors of town You have finally returned, but to this insane woman Whom every day Hangs her wet thoughts On a laundry line in the abandoned street Can’t you see? It’s been ages Since the walls of trust collapsed in this house And now the Ivy of illusion are weaving deception at windowsills I am talking to you The conqueror of my burnt city Come and pick up my shattered pieces And with so much pride place them on the curve of your chest These pieces are supposed to proclaim your superiority I wish you had known To conquer a defeated town Wouldn’t bring you any dignity…. Dec 8, 2015