Shriek

It was a shriek of ideas,

And my shivering thoughts may touch you,

But your ears searched for melody.

Art

Am I the art, you sold to be read?

Am I the power hidden in the library?

But, Am I the word torn out in the market?

Stammer

I stammered,

Many of them shivered.

I was chocked;

With those poisoned arms

And my arms lost its temper.

I scattered those roofs

With my stammer to bleed many tops,

As I was chocked with the lumps of blood

Drained by those giants.

Those pebbles scattered by them

Flooded on me to frighten me.

But my stammer was not monstrous

Like those predators who bleed many dreams.

I stammered,

And;

Many of them lost their houses

But can rebuild their homes on me.