Poezja

We heard the screams. 
Water to water, 
fire to fire. 
It was not marginal pain. 
A meaningful dialogue 
had started in unhinged doors. 
 
The house is empty. 
You come out from nothingness 
to share the slogans. 
 
The country wakes in the eye of guns. 
 
Someone was fishing in troubled 
waters. The bread becomes crazy. 
 
Under the black moon 
the white, hungry mouths. 
A sacrifice!