Asylum

In the midnight in our shackles

Some acts of howling sequels awaken 

Killing us slowly and blaming subconsciousness 

And mortality becomes the slave of unseen pirate hands. 

Blood vessels are filled with alcohols and barbarism

At these moment the antibodies change their support 

And stands as our enemies in the vigorous hour of the dark 

The father becomes the demon, the mother kills and the son’s rape.

How can the doctors kill the nonhuman body in the asylum? 

We all must be mad. 

We made the world the way it is. 

The world is our asylum. 

We are all inmates

Who slept a long while ago in a similar shock of hatred- 

A life stoned itself into the pit of the hell long before the mournings of mankind.