Nothing will save you.

 You stand in a universe made of stone

and sand dunes.

No one is going to save you.

Nor the agony of the pollen, nor the birth of the rose.

Nor the tracks on the burning hills.

Neither satiety nor hunger.

Not even the branches that grow out of your eyes.

Not even the rain.

It is neither denied, nor given.

Not even the closeted disciple of the Baptist.

Nor the hanging sword of Damocles.

Nor the gold of Siddhartha, nor the silver of Agalia's treachery.

Not Lancelot, not Gilgamesh, not the Trojan horse.

Nothing will save you.

Perhaps the psalms of history

that you don't know today. Maybe, never.