Poetry

After a hard day 
a game-changing starts, 
igniting the night. 
 
You are buried 
in stitches. The wounds 
are devoid of blood. 
 
Will you split the─ 
silence along the words? 
There was no awareness now. 
 
A persona 
becomes a revolution. The streets 
are painted red. 
 
The monument 
drifts. You wash the landscape 
with moonlight.