LAMENTATION OF THE FLESH

They wish to be 

as strong as me.

What they do not know is that

behind the iron-strength,

there is an iron blade;

I carry it around, I hid it close, I hid it well. 

Like the soft rain with its rhythmic sobs,

the world could only hear the long murmuring sound clearly

so I touch my body in vain to find the wound.

You tried to touch my body,

but a thorn prick your thumb,

and an invisible air is all there is of me.

I have felt the wind on 

my second flesh; madness, I called her.

She thickens the air, heavy as water

condemning everything that goes through.

Drunken with her, I shouted at it

a night-long laments.

But when blood was revealed

behind the veil; revealing the secret
Like an unblessed moon, I can hear 

a countless number of gasp and horror.

So I say to them,

"How do you think I can do it for so long?"

—C.L.