A language
Is entwined with words
Of a kind
As they create roads
With skins of golden brown
Backs scared by lash or whip
Sweaty brawls, shackled feet.

A black heart of spades
Appears face up
Within a dream of despair
A love seek
Within that dream
Is not the same
While in reality.

The thought of it all
Can drive a man insane
With a leg attached, to a chain
The heat beats upon
Their smelly uniforms
Of black and white stripes.

Like a hell on earth
All pray for the season's
Cloudburst
That brings chaos and devil winds
And Breathable air.

Sprays of stormy skies
rushing floods
Cooling even their feet
From the burning earth.

Cool is the waters
Rushing through the sores
Of long legged chains
The evening sun
Sizzles.

Into the horizon
As they silhouette
With picks and shovels
Along orange skies.


By: William Bonilla
)3/01/05