N. 29508
Luca Spiller
A little further away
Just few hours, maybe a day
Place of hope to start again.
Death closing behind.
No other option,
It will work.
Thinking back is sorrow
Looking back is grief,
Move forward, endure it.
Stop lingering on what was lost,
On who was lost.
On those nameless, markless, shallow graves
Unknown and gone,
Alive only in nightmares.
No news bearer,
The postman doesn’t deliver here
Most likely he’s dead too,
Or trying to forget the blood, flesh, and tears,
Those cruel eyes and rapacious hands,
The captivity, subjugation, slavery.
He just wanted to deliver the mail.
Push all behind,
Sever those lingering connections,
Butcher the limbs of the gauging memories.
Lie down now, and savour this cursed moment,
On the last carrier between you and them
Surrounded by the screaming loneliness
Of a merciless grave,
Salty like tears
And rocking a deadly lullaby.
Just few hours, maybe a day
Place of hope to start again.
Death closing behind.
No other option,
It will work.
Thinking back is sorrow
Looking back is grief,
Move forward, endure it.
Stop lingering on what was lost,
On who was lost.
On those nameless, markless, shallow graves
Unknown and gone,
Alive only in nightmares.
No news bearer,
The postman doesn’t deliver here
Most likely he’s dead too,
Or trying to forget the blood, flesh, and tears,
Those cruel eyes and rapacious hands,
The captivity, subjugation, slavery.
He just wanted to deliver the mail.
Push all behind,
Sever those lingering connections,
Butcher the limbs of the gauging memories.
Lie down now, and savour this cursed moment,
On the last carrier between you and them
Surrounded by the screaming loneliness
Of a merciless grave,
Salty like tears
And rocking a deadly lullaby.
Luca Spiller is an Italian writer based in London. He holds a Master degree in forced migration. Curious by nature, he is always keen to learn from others and understand different journeys and perspectives.
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