Taste the Light


With every dream
of those strange colored icicles
and those unimaginable caves.

From the survivals and fallouts
from those painfully realistic

and the drowning of the entire
sub-structure of it, in the whole of rum,
to rage against the dying night.

We have flooded the brain,
indebting it of our memories.

it is a sky now, so full of fireworks
it seems like floating nebula of dust and light.

Don’t let it suffocate.
Don’t let a genocide kill what you imagine.

Write and let the light taste the paper.
like it should.


*Rage against the dying night taken from Dylan Thomas’s Poem of the same name*


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