Poetry

O my Master! 
I am breaking rank, 
with space and cosmos. 
 
The scorched earth 
wants another moon, 
another sun. 
 
The blue abyss 
invites for a final plunge. 
I may find my stars. 
 
O my pain! 
give me more needles 
more bites. 
 
On a platter 
you carry the severed title 
of my poem.