Crossing The Line Poem by Lovita Morang

If
then
If I cross the line
Will I be lost in the narrow lanes
Will I be the glorified bandit
Shooting birds in a nameless forest
Blood drips from each leaves
And I plant a new heart
Or else watch a hawk making lazy circles in the Dome
Reading out
Nameplates, on broken doors
uprising on vertical stairs
uprooted uproars
tears through my minds
tears not now but flows blood
and grant this time
to tame beyond
will I
I looked you
Through the smoky
Polluted pictures of tomorrow
I tried to cleansed the dusty memories
The dusty floors
A mere pretension of flying on the Sky-like roof of my home
We hide in the illusionary strength in these walls
Their minds rot
Our too dies here
My numbened tongue does not stir
My lips might mumble
And take you a.CROSS
To an unfamiliar country law
Till I
If I cross the line
Will we be mourning the mock
Or
Mark the death of not yet a truth
Will there be voices yelling
Do not cross the line
What if I…