First you clipped my wings,
Then asked me to fly.
"It's your blue sky"
Ouch! It hurts,
My broken wings.
I took refuse in your heart,
"Odds aren't good",
"Leave", then you commanded.
Nauseous, I feel,
Last night's drink?
Time's plutocratic,
It can change times.
Once here,
Then elsewhere,
Fate's bewildering staircases.
Close your eyes,
They're here.
Dream on,
Not there?
First you licked my wounds,
"Better die", then you prayed.
Excuse Me!
Slaying's your vocation.
Heaven, I thought at first
You threatened to boil me alive,
Well, your wish my command.
The team's in the stadium.
It spectates at a game,
In a jocular mood.
It tastes every sip of,
My trickling blood.
People've become matadors,
They butcher with quite a ritual,
WWF or Reality TV ?
I don't even know.

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