glass ledge
Over my head,
The red scorching sun,
Which on my face,
Has left its mark.
Distant land,
Which I was raised to adore.
Not once have I bathed in its water,
Not once has my step touched the soil.
Yet on me, I bear their skin,
The silky raven hair,
Almond eyes which to the sky point,
As if trying to reach for their mother, the sun.
In their faces, my image is reflected.
On the inside, our alliances differ.
I'm the fragments of their before,
In a place so far from "their" home.
I possess their names and surnames,
But in my language, they're spoken.
I was, I am, I will always be part
Of that land I know not of.
steel mica
torpid dragon
