Ruins of the heart (an original poem)

Who owns a land
where Mayans used to live?

Who makes a sacrifice
for old Zaptotecian Gods?

The ruins own it all,
and empty altar in the middle.

Respect is gone.
You pay for ticket to become a God.

I used to bring flowers,
but others come with knifes.

I used to translate respect,
but others choose ignorance.

Old monuments are carved
with teenagers’ eternal love.

Do Gods have patience
with eternity reaching the end?

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