Yasmin Hemmat

I was born in a distant and solemn
Kingdom of hatred and destruction
Near the silent sea of fire
In a city crowded with gloom
...

In the pursuit of unknown,
In the valley of shadow of death,
I stand alone on the brink of oblivion,
Bewitched by his rapturous breath.
...

My quill drips with my blood,
While I'm writing to the oracle of my imprisoned soul.
The river of blood soon floats into a flood,
And ichor effuses without control.
...

In the beginning was the Word,
and the Word was Pain.
Pain was the prelapsarian language.
Pain is the crimson apple
...

I hang upon the wall;
alone,
fragile,
silent.
...

The dark moon
shines upon the graves,
across the mist-veiled plain of night.
...

I sit in the house of my body.
My tea has gone cold.
Beyond the windows of my eyes,
rain is falling.
...

I, Alice, falling
down the rabbit hole,
down, down,
into the darkness.
...