From An Oak Tree

A picture froze my life and death as I hang tightly from an oak tree

Crimpling thin boards, rocks, shrubs, dead roots and wild dogs

Swallow me until I'm no more

I'll disappear with the winds as a knife hit the skin

Blood oozes along my black sweaty skin, strips of lines and pus are signs of keepsake

Excitement like an intoxicating substance in the blood and heartless souls

Skin crisp as it lies atop of fire— charred product of life, death, fear and hate fulfils them

Bits and pieces of my charred corpse fell, as I lie heavenly from an oak tree

The leaves draped my body as if it's in grief—

The only witness with emotions as it wept for me on this warm summer day.