Утро После (СИ)

Healing is worthless. These are things no one can uproot.

My wings are broken. I lose my flight.

Fatigue, pain and snow. Again - sweat. Again - sparks.

Looking under my nails, you find blood and mud.

You are in my thoughts. You are in my life.

I am virgin like Eva. But for you I am a "slut".

Like a strand of hair in the wind I`m out of order.

My heart is your target. You`re holding the gun.

You know, my note is sodden with poems.

But it`s worse that your name is so close to mine.

Give me a dream. Give me more, than the terror

Of the moment I feel gunpoint chill to my head.

I just want to live in a sweet torment,

Feeling the iron of the key, eating the heart in my chest.

The turn of the key ... I have almost survived...

You are welcome to my heart, full of the smoke.

I burned everything... But my love is alive.

Everything has its turn, its joy and its woe.

Your departure. My fire. My answer. Your strike.

2017

No Margarete

Deep madness. I am at gunpoint.

My eyes water. Revenge is just a game.

I became a stranger to my Lord.

To speak more precisely - I have stayed...

The madness is like current in the wires,

It`s like a blade against the neck.

I am all in ice and laughter in the darkness

Of our room, where I forget the shame.

So I undress in front of flickering candle.

You are the Master, who I appreciate.

And I am ready to sleep in burning cradle

For love to be reborn from blinding hate.

The room is dark. And you are absent.

Red-haired, naked I carve the wooden floor -

It used to keep our secret and now it keeps my talent.

You pour salt on wounds. I try to close the door.

Deep madness. Lack of taste. Your lies.

I spit at wounds. Look! I am already gone!

I am indifferent, I swear in your life.

I have crushed

All the feelings,

Crept inside.

2017

Mephistopheles

Whose shot will be louder means nothing to me.

It is more important whose blood we will wash -

You`ll fall from the skyscraper, mon ami.

It will pacify your wild heart with the squash.

Whose tea is unfinished means nothing to me.

I wonder much more what a station you`ll choose

To tread with your weak, faltering steps

To your own fate with intention to lose.

Whose venom was sweeter I`ll never know.

I wanted mine to be killing faster.

So that keen edge of the steel knife

Will open you gates to the Realm of Shadows.

I used to taste you as the love philtre -

The odor of wormwood and the stench of mushrooms.

I`ve left for you some place for mistakes -

The thin thread of life on the conflux of worlds.

I watch you clinging on for your dear life,

I watch your wings so gracefully grow.

You were falling down stabbed with the knife

Into radiation, so fast and so low.

But, my Paradise, when you rise from the dead,

I think you will never ever forgive me.

But I am the aorta of your courage and strength,

And I`ll make you stronger, despite stabs to ruin.

2017

Cruel Reality

Cruel reality embraces with cold pallid wings.

Distances cover the pages of restless life.

I cannot forget the things that I really miss.

As all human limbs are sodden with sorrowful blood.

Cruel reality groans like beasts in the traps,

I am still the same despite new epoch approach.

I am alive. I`m ready to breathe. Suffocate

All the wistful and smoldering hopes that emerge.

2015

The Beasts

The darker the night, the longer the letters.

The shorter the day, the more poignant the tears.

I have always tried to be stronger and better,

Telling the truth and discussing ideas.

I've got tired of waiting, sowing spores into cracks.

I've got tired to pose my inmost pain as the oomph.

I've got tired to pose my weakness as if it`s my strength.

And small hills of victory to pose as high triumph.

The darker the night, the whiter the ashes.

The bitterer the honey, the thinner the saliva.

Releasing my awe and unbearable passion,

I`m cutting my chest, burning runes of survival.

Hark! The fowl convulses. The dark blood is spilled over.

Night is as fast as a deadly shot.

You can see no faces. Only dark grim figures.

Your red dreams will burst like volcanic flow.

My ardent body runs through the cruel rain.

I have closed the doors. I have chosen peace.

Thousands of eyes. These are passion beasts.

Soon there will be none. Napalm waits for them.

2017

Morning After

Like with hot lava I`m seething with sex.

The cold wall of rain blurs over grey windows.

The morning. The bitterness. The poems. The snow.

I feel pleasure and pain, I think, I`m weirdo.

The time waits for so long, but then spins away.

The day that decays for me sends innuendos.

I can't breathe without you. And your silhouette

I see in the park, but I lurk in the shadows.

Like with hot lava I`m seething with sex.

I wallow in memories, which have the taste of my pain.

I do not dream of you, be sure, relax.

I just play my role in this wicked game.

My bitter tea is burning the cup,

How can porcelain feel hurt like a girl?

The mask turns to face, disclosing the truth.

I imbibed your essence like a priestess the salt.

I will understand. We have different views.

We have different ways. We have different fates.