“My IOWA”

In the rise of the sun,
On the mind, the only one.
Water drips down the face.
All I want, are the reasons.

Invade the horrors in me.
Out grow the painful memories.
What will this all mean?
A face destroyed by its enemies.

Intensity builds as I fight,
Open eyes, pour black in the night.
Wrists are sewed to the floor.
Answer questions I deplore.

I am soaked to the bone.
Omitting judgments been thrown.
Wasted days turn to months,
A violence, trench that leads to the fronts.

Insurrectional life,
Overturn the demon I/we fight.
With words I paint this my rule.
Affliction, IOWA can be cruel.