We are all poet-murderers,
Who bleed our souls dry.
Our life is a sin against itself.
I asked myself:
«Destroy my life or not destroy»
Destroy and be destroyed, -
Answered the universe.
I felt tears sting my eyes
The universe is lovely strange.
I ‘m preparing a coffin
For today’s launch of new way.
Melancholic wave of memories
It is a sword onto my breast.
I let my memory go,
The drama’s done,
Only one remains
I am alone in my coffin,
As I was in my mother's womb.
22.08.21
We are all poet-murderers
© Copyright: Кудрицкая Дарья, 2021
Свидетельство о публикации №221082200443
Свидетельство о публикации №221082200443
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