Hope

Lately, we gather

to talk about what we have been deprived off

in the forever bonfire, a pair of shoes, leftover bones

we watch them getting burnt

Last year you said that in 5 miles there is a beautiful lake where fish

runs into your net

fresh lubricant, glazing like

a dream, wrapped in a bubble

light and fragile

The wood cracks in silence while the crowd

shout as we saw our villages, turning into ashes

here is the hand of my girl

there, the debris of a skull, seeing right into my eyes

we burnt our sorrow, the disastrous life in the fire

for its forever power of destruction

its ruthless greed, gripping what we have

             what is still living

we burnt our book, words soaked, drown in the fire

old history

it burns it all

our history

it lasts

longer than our never-reaching dream