Poezja

Faceless fear leaps from the book 
I close the chapter. 
My ancestors start hovering about my 
head 
What did I achieve? 
Glorified stones and shining plaques 
adorn the garden, 
round and round my spirit soars. Are 
You listening? 
Two things always haunted me. Space 
and voices. I searched 
my atlas and traced my home which 
never was. 
Nothing will alter my hurt. I am 
afraid to lose my soft eye, 
roving smell and final judgement.