A floor above

Nobody just sits on the throne
with warm roses and a loud smile.
The floor also bears a cold tile
Lay your head in a hollow stone.

Above to live
below to die,
if I’m your sheets,
that your womb still holds.
Earth is Earth
when the sun proclaims.

To live here is for us to die
this cursing gives wind with no hope
Gravity dares not try to cope
in this room, in this room I sigh.

So forget what holds
hold what still remains
bury what cannot stand
weep not for what fades.
scars itch
wounds remind.

moep eep shep goe fe niang men
A kioklok, La’a dai tong tang fieyr.

Ruddapoet