As Rats We Feed

As the Sun lights the dawn
I celebrate my freedom
As the earth becomes warm
I cherish my kingdom
As the sky releases her storm
I have my religion
As fresh scars are born
I witness the cleansing of my mother

Can the cripple lead the blind man?
Can the poet masturbate the eunuch?
Can the lover ever be loved?
Can the mother be understood?

As the land is cloaked by dusk
I distance my fellow man
As the night is hard to trust
I shield my eyes from its shadows
As the darkening envelope is thrust
I escape its torments
As scars are covered by blackened husk
I experience the troubled dreams of my mother as her vermin begin their
feast.

Can the deaf speak to the dumb?
Can the poet comfort the hated?
Can the lover ever be loved?
Can the mother be understood?