The wheels are in motion The cart ploughs the soil like a giant lead monument Dragging the flesh across the soil With a rag round one’s neck The wheels are in motion The cart ploughs the soil, leading to the iron polygon
When all is done…
The door closes behind me And I am flung out into the desert Then, with a darting flow of pain I hurl until my guts are as dry as bones
I stare into that scene of nothingness The fullness of anger paralyses me Then pain is felt all over with a tightening grip Voices repeat themselves like a never-ending punishment