gazal
it’s become a
disease
the love of your
city
and i saw the
savior himself
suffering from it
my strapping youth
was eaten up by
it’s streets
why should i not,
friend,
revere your city
in your city the
people
they value not true
love
and every
marketplace here
comes alive after
dark
not another step
towards
my destination
could i gain
some thorn of your
city
pierced me with
such pain
where i wasn't
fortunate enough
at my death even to
get a shroud
what demented
lunatic would
trust your city now
they auctioned off
even
my corpse at my
death
yet i could not,
friend
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