A curse fell from fate’s lips - my Land is weak

Vulture ripping his body with its hooked beak

So-called children, Land urged us to come

To regain the honor grated into crumb

Your stance is in hump like a camel of the desert

I never knew you are a thing to be preserved

I shouted ‘Not patriot’ banging my chest

Can one love when free will is aggressed?

With a belch of bitter breath, I moaned

Till your starless skies were domed

My roots call. I come to save myself

I’ll fear this storm with you together

Blink of eye and we are the white page

Climb the ridge, roar free from your cage

Time has come. Tack on your horse,

Run this desert head to toe

Revolution, spread your scent

Revive that spring with saffron red

First day of school remember I

Stood in awe of building's height

Now it's place I take you, son

To be told you'll touch the sun

Just like me when I was young

Earth was greener on this side

So undaunted, I'd jump high

With simple wish to touch the sky

Hopping on till that evil scratch-

to the dark with a lighted match

I saw the world of Run and Catch

On faces bloody slit was stretched

Chained feet, restrained heart

Sizzling in depth, my sun was drowned

Buried with filth and rusty ground

I become a quilt for coward

I pray, son. Cast in stone,

Never betray the way you run

In rain or snow, feel your sun

Whether it's love or great pain

I lost it; time had come,

For death - uncivil to defeat

It found me in six feet mound

Where I strangled my inner being

I am making pierogis today

Like my nana used to bake

With her apron on, I am lighting the stove

‘Let your dough rise in warmth,’ she would warn

I didn’t care for my parents’ broken home

Or my mom’s romance with wine made in Rome

When nana was around, I wasn’t alone

Once nana called to show the ‘running dough’

I knew it: nana was a witch with a cat named Ron

She was born in the times foregone

Finally,some magic for me to brag on;

But it was just a bowl, overflown with gooey dough

-which desired to break free from its form.

Falsely intrigued I watched nana

punch it back into its mold.

Years later when I am done

Playing dumb in this imaginary fun

Nana’s kitchen is where I run

White wine is my lucky charm

Dough can’t escape the fate

Dough can’t run