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de Francis On My Mind

You feel your hair
Stetched by the wind in run,
They're plating with the tongues of fire,
Chasers, already in your back.

You can't keep cool
Hearing the seconds wearing on,
Only five minutes to complete
The escape from the keraton

You bleed yourself
With the ground, like dust,
So you baffle the wanders
Rolling in front of them.

Like a sheaf of light
You file on the walls
And like a shadow you can pass
The exit gates of keraton

Fortress, prison of my youth
Fortress, static keeper of my time

You shut him up
Into your shiny metal walls,
You forced him
In the cold of your towers.

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