Eradication by Amal Audeh

The crowd is broken ashes of time

Where sits

A wordless feeling of mechanical insignificance

It weeps forms of uninterested nakedness

Of voices among minus realities

And an overflow

Of the pale possibility of echoes

Of exhausted questions

They roll over the skinless thoughts

Of a chair in the loneliness of a waiting-room

Unaccompanied you will ever be on the pages

Of the unbroken grins of history

Alone in the tomb

Of nonspeaking clocks


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