I stand accused, Leila Samarrai

Building of Justice is the square-shaped tray
decorated with figures of lions
biting clumsily,
they look, they know.
Finally, the lions are like candied almonds,
They open their stone mouth
to spit an almond, then another, until the rain of sugar almonds
fell to the pillars and bloody benches

dotted with visitors with seminal faces
like a white canvas They stare at lions and sing to trees
doodling the poetic Justice
to  lickerish carcasses winners.

Everywhere is written Justice, she breathes
she drums, she shocks violently with syllables,
annulling the bitterness from the surrounding
harvested greenery.

Court watchdogs, cattle and lions
tantalize nicks, scoundrels, maybe an occasional innocence,
(don’t bend the truth now, you barefaced liar)
whether innocence could ever be caught rushing
with pack of mangy mutts at the wrong place?

So, I stand accused.


Author: Leila Samarrai

I am a person of Himalayan seclusion, I am Atalanta in vestments of Helen of Troy, for me there is no term (aphorism there is, maybe). Cosmopolitan is too modest word for one who wanders across epochs without the help of the time machine. Some people consider me weird, because usually this is so when they do not understand something or someone that do not represent their existence. I love cats, an animals in general, I like challenges, I am persistent, I am combative (sometimes I can exaggerate in that - in all) If I were stylistic figure my mortal name would be Hyperbole. Read me. Know me. Conquer me :)

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