West of Lahore

      BXS       My legacy dries as I put pen to paper      Yet, the west of me cries     Its June 18' and I'm stuck     Rust colored box with the walls closing in      A crux, to my existence      Blank shapes seeping darker than my melanin      The bell tolls - earsplitting     S hattering and dragging away the unwilling silence            Now like its creatine that Ive injected, resurrected - pristine      I stand      A messiah      As the distance becomes smaller I'm forced to acknowledge my company       Once again     F ace to face in this gradually confining space, there     He stands -      My biggest enemy     The man in the mirror      Towering and unyielding     Uncharacteristically for...