We live by the hours

Being uncertain of what could befall us next

Especially in the next second of our fragile lives

The vibrant limbo squeezes our shabby paces

And we get lost in the dark

And withered by the thoughts of being lost in the dark

And we fear that ranting darkness, even the one in our shadows

Our paces we distrust now

Our breathes we can’t say how many is left for us

For we are not assured

Not assured of the turbulent future

Because daily we are surmounted by countless thorns

They prick us, even in our eyes

Especially in the mosquito infested cells

They grab us, slap us, and hit us with the guns

Our heads, our ribs, they never mind, they hit everywhere

As long as they can satisfy their egos

As long as they can justify the survival of their masters