Rabbit and Rose
I am afraid your love will be my last thought
I am afraid your hand will be my last touch
I am afraid your love will be my struggle
I am a woman from a war zone
My lips are weaved by dignity threads
The dilemma without solve
Love in the war
A woman in the war zone.
I am a woman with glass eyes
The glass breaks to tears
The tears grow to river
The river calls the ancestors
The ancestors take the women
To fire garden.
The garden full of red seeds
Grows in rows to red flowers
The seeds are my father
My mother and my son's bones.
I am afraid your love
will be my last seed.