SLEEP

Out of the cradle I started my life,
Curled small in the zone of sleep,
My flesh close to dream;
The others from the void arrive in here —
Hollow eyes, close as my breath.
When they come, my grave splits open,
And the God of Slumber welcomes me.
There are no nightmares in death,
There are no sweet dreams in the cradle.

BOUNDARY

The world is a boundary,
within the unreachable imagination of mankind,
like mountain peaks,
never arriving before our eyes.
And war is fire,
forcing people into the same boundary,
each becomes an ant,
bound to coexist,
yet the moment one leaves,
isolation deepens.
The crows are the waiters,
they line up after death arrives,
ready to feast upon the corpses.
In that moment,
even the boundary of the food chain collapses,
for humanity,
adrift in the darkness.

Author’s Biography

Yucheng Tao is a Chinese poet based in Los Angeles, currently pursuing a B.A. in Songwriting at the Musicians Institute. His work has appeared in over 30 journals internationally, including Wild Court (King’s College London), NonBinary Review, Apocalypse Confidential and more. His debut chapbook,  will be published by Alien Buddha Press in August 2025.