The border’s drawn, the dice were cast
In blackened skies and tremors vast.
A borrowed corner, four by four,
A key turned in a stranger’s door.
No other road, no open gate,
Just this ceasefire made of fate.
I hold my breath, I make no sound,
On this unfamiliar ground.

But in the kindness of their space,
I see a shadow cross her face.
A wife who feels the order bend,
Who sees a ghost she must defend.
The soup she gives is warm, but laced
With fears that cannot be erased.
An ultimatum, soft and deep,
Where grateful hearts and tensions sleep.

CAUGHT IN THE ECHOES! (Between the mercy and the mine!)
A offered bed, a shifting line!
TRAPPED IN THE CURRENT! (Trying not to cross the design!)
My peace becomes their steep decline!
This safety, borrowed, hour by hour,
Is souring in their sheltered bower.
AND IN THE SILENCE, I CAN’T FIND THE GROUND.

Her husband speaks, a strained reply,
“She’ll share your room,” a tightened lie.
But hostess with a warring heart
Is a grenade, set apart.
The neighbors, kind, now turn their face
From this displaced, this fragile case.
No villain here, just territory—
The oldest human story.

And I’m the ghost who holds the key
To their home’s frail symmetry.
My mere existence, bread I take,
Is the earthquake in their lake.
Do I betray this trust they gave,
And walk back to my certain grave?
Or stay, and feel the bedrock crack
Beneath each kindness given back?

CAUGHT IN THE ECHOES! (Between the shrapnel and the shame!)
A sheltered roof, a hidden blame!
TRAPPED IN THE CURRENT! (Burning in a borrowed flame!)
My survival is my claim to blame!
This guilt is crawling on my skin
For the war I didn’t begin!
AND IN THE FALLOUT HERE, I AM BURIED SOUND.

I fled the storm to find the calm,
But I am now the falling bomb.
A weary soul, a neutral plea,
Now the ghost she doesn’t see.
I swore no harm, I am no blade,
But the refuge in the light they made
Is casting shadows, long and cold,
Where a story, centuries old, takes hold…
(It takes hold…)

SO WHAT’S LEFT TO CUT AWAY?!
MY NEED?! THEIR HOME?! OR THIS BETRAYAL BENEATH THE WORDS THEY WON’T SAY?!
A PROBLEM WITH NO ENEMY!
A HEART TORN APART BY CHARITY!
JUST A ROOM! JUST A FLOOR! IN THIS QUIET WAR!
I’M THE BATTLEFIELD!

To be is to fracture…
To live is to break…
A choice of violences…
For pity’s sake…
In the space between the thunders…
The conscience splits and sunders…
Trapped… in the design…
This shelter is a mine…

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