Inanimate innocent

full of rats, excrement, rottenness.

Confined, isolated of the light, immobile,

with tied chains,

without treated mercy,

with iron a fire marked,

covered by their dress of wounds,

with inseparable worms on him self,

festering rivers of pus,

segregating floods of infection

Vomiting his smell the inanimate innocent

screaming he questions "what I did make "

Disturbed, dismembered,

cruelly throttled,

bled, violet,

fragmented with hundred of instruments,

suffocated, knifed,

dug in their bowels

In the rotten dungeon the divided parts

of the inanimate innocent it questions :

"what we did make".