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‵The Landscape of Pain‵

Pain is just like that,

You smear a firefly
On your cheek,
That sticky sensation of
Insectual soul, and
You imagine its pain,
Your face glows with
Definite death

While light slips through your fingers.
It is abstract, and the rest
Circle In swarms
In indefinite life

Raining shooting stars and
Unfulfilled dreams,
Crushing on speeding windshields
Or mistaken for hope; They
never avoid the highway.


If you don't have
Nervous system, naturally
You don't know pain.
Moth in flame is just like that,
Evanescent, it darts,
Fire, ash.

You imagine its pain, It
Must've been like a
Thin crack of overwhelming eternity.
As monotonous as
The landscape of pain.

But how do you know
How do you assume pain of
Those that don't even have a
Nervous system?

Those who to be hatched is to be
Fucked, who never avoid highways
and fires,

Those who to live is to die,
Like me?


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