Between the Old and the New Year
I don’t even get the chance to suffer, to break down
In silhouettes in darkness, totally down
In my hometown
Though usual it goes as it is
As it always exists;
Of a new year
I can hear the celebration with blaring sounds
Inside my head—
Of automatic guns
Of splattering blood;
Let me write in stone
And more emptiness
Till death do my heart and soul apart.
And I’m far away from home
And I have lost my way back home;
Do new years come to my home?
It used to, but no more I’m sure;
Is it an old year leaving?
Is it a new year coming?
As the Year Draws Towards Its End