The body of resilience, sleep within isolated plains of lucid skin. How the flesh breathes inside a intangible time bomb. It bleeds answers, justifying the formation of destruction. How the red venom purges, unnoticing marks carved out for identification. It consumes hints, proclaiming the veiled web of torture. How the tissue conjures, every remain of prolonged grief. It sustains brutal, leashing fibers that speak my tongue. How the cells evolves, disclosing present stains of vulnerability. It weaves mobility, ensuring the sanity fill up the body. This body which revolves around clutches of hatred, fragility is still questioned. If I wear my name as a camouflage mask, will you foresee the dripping abuse? Yet, when I deliver this dybbuk to you, all you desire is my ruthless identity.