I was still mourning my mother when death visited again.
He wanted to make my grief into a sentence, complex
for me, a lover of simple words.
Ugly man –
It is proper for an ugly man to have a beautiful heart.
In a dungeon of tears, you will see me bare,
with deads like me, still wearing a skin, sharing my grief.
Same spot. Check back tomorrow,
I swear, you’ll see me learning an elegy to sing for your end.
Brethren, grief not with me anymore.
Do not make this ugly man laugh at you yet.
He’s watching, not knowing he’s a citizen of a gone world.
Watch God kills him like he did to his prophets.