Who am i to ask for more?

when broken bodies
finally depart before
their rust-engulfed seats and tea,
who am i to ask
them to stay a dusk more?

when the dolls of strong porelain 
finally rip their feign
and reveal their fragility in the storm,
who am i to ask 
them to protect me from the angry rain?

when my sacred box 
finally agapes
and reveals what i troubled to induratize
who am i to ask
anyone for help and escape?

when the night
finally falls with 
death's blanket ready to sprawl,
who am i to ask
him to wait a dusk more?