Profiling the flaws
after the ignition, starts
the outrage.

A stoic will assume a
secret. The mute testimony
against my naked walls.

Your gifts are lying unseen,
unused. I have gone, O tormentor―
beyond your reach.

When you would try
to annihilate the vision, I will
check the bleed of eyes.

If the bell rings;
somebody will arrange the table
for anaesthesia.