Why are the ants
Which knew death
Through my palms
Visiting me?
I can see them forming together from apart
Stinging me,
Crawling up on my diaspora,
Forming abodes like holes,
Smearing my face with my deeds like they were,

But they were small like atoms when I killed them,
I felt they have no part on my path,
Maybe they did,
And now they are hunting me.