Tonight, as I close my eyes,
I could think of an Ernesto Guevara
Swimming across the Amazon
For a leper’s touch.
Or, an Albert Schweitzer
By the piano in the Forsaken Land,
Holding a lamp in Lambarene.
But, tonight, as I try to sleep,
I see a pair of icteric eyes,
Gasping breaths,
And perforated intestines,
Crying for Life.
And sinking into Infinity.
Ernesto, I would walk with you a million times, a million miles,
For a million breaths.
Sisyphus Speaks 