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The boy who saw

Dedicated to those who are trying to see not with their eyes.

The boy who saw
Photo by Jr Korpa / Unsplash

Forgive me now
Foreign, rainy land,
help me see
what’s below your ground,
what’s beyond your hills,
who dropped the dime
that is spinning now,
on the living room’s floor
of the second house
on the left,
passed the entrance,
of the village
outside this town.

The boy who saw
all of that blood.
Oh, bless his heart.
His misfortune
will be his salvation.
Drops, of distilled chaos,
rip the self apart,
Unveiling the fraud.
We are multitude of solitudes,
reflections of the same water’s pond.

Forgive me now
if I quietly pass by Rationality
I have nothing to say to her.
There is something else
I’m looking for.
What precedes the act,
the face of the unknown,
understand the happening.
Forgive me now,
because fragments of a second
are lifetimes to me right now.