misguided soul.

Sand throws itself against the tent walls,

and I listen to you.

if only you could be taken aside for a minute

by someone wise.

if only you would shut up.

Come here and do what I do. Maybe you would realize

what I can't explain,

what I know intuitively.

You believe in things imaginary. You dream, and

you hallucinate.

And yet I follow behind you,

trailing in your wake.

The wind drowns me out, a piping voice

lost in the cacophony of war.

I couldn't make myself understood to you anyway.

Even if you were willing.

I follow you, despising to follow.

You are too powerful,

and my feelings must be guarded.

You kill every day and cause such suffering-

Maybe you are the voice of

god

after all.

06 April 2006