Life has become
like a persimmon:
Hard and in the color of fire
I watch
Shrouded little girls and boys
Scattered like the beads
Violence and Jealosy
Are eternal residents
On earth
I have died
A thousand times
here
A million bloody times
A dead man I am.
My ghost is
In the bomb-ruined Love Land –
The Limbo.
Life has become like a persimmon…
