The Refuge- too late to enter M contest

 


Fleeing my home of malm and stone to go and seek my fate.
In what manor of sin have I now committed to be in such a state.
To go from migrant to martyr without a cause for wishing just to be.
I'm but one of many for a better life a desperate mutiny.
While I'm person or problem it's all the same in their mercantile ways.
As they huddle and mingle taking endless sides and taking endless days.
They in a monastic palace perfumed in myrrh or in uniform roaming concrete halls.
I'm still while still here in a tent city guarded by barbed meringue topped walls.