No more indulgence
In self-pleasure.
No more moaning
Over my pain.
Today I close
This chapter
In which I was forced
To plough the Aral Sea.
I feel the furious
Waves
Crashing
Against the mirror
Of my frustration.
I will take one last look
At your cage.
And I leave.
You planted inside me
A Molotov cocktail
Of delirium:
You mixed,
Consciously,
Insomnia,
Melancholy,
Resignation.
My fertile seeds,
Thrown with force,
Fell upon
Your barren land.
And I did nothing
But weep
A sea
Of salty tears.
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