From the gloomy dust, I rise from Hades' spell to see the sun's glory on a splendid morning.
The inner man greets me.
Rise from the clay that binds you, and from the gutter's belly.
Rise to see your Father's radiant face watching the human soul.
You walk on moons; all I see is pitch and unpaved roads.
I walk on the crust of land, and envy ships swimming on water.
The world walks on its hurting soul, and on ancient bones.
Children bare feet, travel on unpaved roads,
‘Go to school, study hard, the money will come.' John's father preached his sermon.
John did only one.
Her father's hands extend beyond the land.
Her hands are sealed like the mouth of his vault.
Trembling with every grasp, his wrinkled hands
will never find their youth.
What is Love?
I cannot find,
A hostage in the hands of time.