Elif Yavuz
And the snapping of their jaws wreck the earth.
Do you hear them,
Over the sound of the crashing waves?
And their scorching hunger ripples across the water.
Can you smell it,
Does the warm breeze of autumn
Carry the odor of their rotten teeth
Across hundreds of acres,
And to your lands of water?
Will you pay it any mind,
If I stop the gritting of their teeth?
But the insatiable greed reaches the point of gratification.
Beneath the blanket of oblivion,
A fire is lit by the hand that reaches out
To strip us free from our skin
Inhumane wish to be worthy,
Meets the innate desire to conquer,
But the expectation of bliss soon rolls away.
With the dread that fills our hearts
The clammy fingers reach for the eyes,
But the rough tug carries out its purpose splendidly.
Will you ignore your unreasonable guilt,
If we tell you it is all meant to be?
And the sailor throws out the rod.
The icy touch of metal
Burns through your senses unrelentingly,
And the idea of home is no longer comforting.
The giant hunts you down
Between the safest of tides
And the left behind, will they do justice
To all their sisters before them?
Will you finally let me see through your eyes,
If I lay my heart bare?
But the undeniable truth blossoms in the depths of our remaining souls.
Desirable light peeking through the horizon
Seems to have been nothing but an illusion,
But no breath of ours will wake us up from the not knowing.
A blinding heat, a cold caress,
The blazing sharp sun on the glass
Welcomes us in its chilly embrace.
Will you seize to fret,
If we seize to deny?
And what you insisted was your fate remains still a cage.
The wanton illusion fades into fatal disappointment.
Leaving nothing but a calloused grip,
A sensation of being utterly aware,
And you only realize your worth as it washes away.
Nothing more than a meal for a table of four,
Down goes the bite, here comes the last final dream.
If I follow you through the darkness of unbecoming,
Will you ever let me in?
But we were forevermore destined to be oblivious prey.
The innocent souls were born hungry,
With only the sky to worship and the earth to wander,
They beckoned for a God,
Yet they were met only with the undying starvation for more and more,
But their ceiling turned gray and their soil became spoiled.
They longed for the glassy reflection of themselves,
On the surface of our heaven, they found who they were.
Down goes Narcissus, here comes the arrogance.
If we admit to resenting your soul,
Will you realize who you are?