Maus

RUSH (Maus)

I hold my body together with wire and pill

I rush towards the source of knowledge

I speak to none and am not spoken to

I am alone in my wax-winged flight

Weary with the time-zone’s dance

The sickly smell of the bus perfume

The roar of the azaan from a microphone

I am solitary in my survival

I am an arena for angels and shaitans

I am the fire of the petrol engine.

Written to Ben Sahar by Behemoth