Deeply Upset

The dark borders 
were shifting, rejecting 
the inner voices. 

The echoes bring apocalypse 
with costs. I hear 
the silent prayers. 

de jure? I want 
to letter the unknown fears 
of the epilogue. 

The whistling pain of the 
words, brings 
the blood flowers. 

Aghast, at the cupidity, 
of man, where shall 
I start the charity?