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(After Pamilerin Jacob’s There are no Emergency Rooms for the Soul)
The sky is the best place to find answers,
Answers to the mystery behind a trembling soul.
Everynight my body becomes a temple where a figure worships in ecstasy.
In my local dialect, rain and fear are spelt the same but different pronunciation.
I must have asked the sky in supplication for fear instead of rain.
A rain to wash this memory off me,
A rain to quench this burning feelings that a certain eye lurks in every darkness.
Fear is a disease I’m prone to
I twitch like I’m epileptic muttering unknown words.
Darkness is a type of aphasia
That hinders me from pronouncing words the right way.
