84 Flowers

 

84 faces, Thursday night in July

Watching flowers of fire sprouting in the sky

84 faces so alive in the night

They won’t be recognized until Sunday night

 

84 flowers on the promenade

Crazy gardener planted them in blood

84 dreams prematurely cut

In the name of what?

In the name of what?

 

84 faces, he wanted them modestly covered

He veiled them with his truck, turned into cadavers

84 times he aimed and accelerated

His engine fueled with radical hatred

 

84 flowers on the promenade...

 

84 millions of rainbow hued tears

Washed off the blood but not the stains of fear

Thieves in robes robbed the crosses and the crescents

Turned into blood religions’ pure essence

 

84 flowers on the promenade...