I see it
There
I see it
I cannot explain it
It bears no form
But it comes with a warning
Prepare yourselves
Take your baths
And don your veils
It nears
Its presence blown like a whisper
Our minds flutter with madness
Not knowing where faith lies
The responsibility we’ve carried all our lives
The wounded sins come undone crying out loud
Back to the factory where I was made
My only hope the master forgives
by Sha Najak, poet/artist