Tonight the stars swirling in pain and blood
shed. Is kindled in the sky
a fixture for each victim of machismo
and the sky is a burning fire weeping.
I've lost count, yes, I have lost in the abundance and
not say how many have fallen so far this month,
so far this year, so far this century,
but all have names and surnames,
a personal story steeped in innocent blood
many, many, many as stars lit
on behalf of a broken love knows not spell words
defeat, abandonment, alienation and oblivion .
A black flare up at the sky horror as
clamor of those who, awed,
silent scream from the pain of so much innocence. Tonight
Tilila stars burned with indignation at such
cousin brutally, and feel depressed, tearful
, desolate, dismayed, distressed, barren, broken.
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