Between me and injustice
There is no truce!
no compromise,
for the sword of king
would always split us apart.
I love man so much
that before I wound someone
I would die to myself.
But when they are uneven handed
the unleashed blade of the spilled fulcrum
in me
shall never rest
even after my death
until,
the poise returns to its thorn
where
the injustice
is,
terminated!
