Off the Dock

Off the Dock

By Ayaan Fahad

And I walk, walk, walk

Towards the hand in the sky.

It censures me with its palm         

In my direction.

A rebel amongst god’s angels,              

Against the sky’s satanic dangers.            

I stalk, stalk, stalk

The being above the horizon,

Is it a thousand, is it one?

Did I make you, are you none?       

Miserable attempts

To talk, talk, talk.       

Aim at me,

Point your finger

Lifeless as chalk.

In fog

I wait for you at the dock.

My haunting horrors.                               

You are many you are one,           

To others, none.

Kill you

How when we are one.

Above the horizon, under the sun.

You hold a flower to me,

A knife at me.

A strife within.

No eye no ear,

I talk to the deaf, unable to hear.

Insanity, we cannot steer.

My dear oh dear

Do not tear,

Your skin.

Mere figment murder me.

Off of the dock,

Drown in the sea.

My mind, murder me.

Engulf the orb

With callous, calloused fingertips.

Turn it cold in malevolence,

Cut out the light.

Knock, knock, knock.

Sun’s demise at noon    

At the dock.