Love,
rain on my face,
rain in my heart...
Dumb pain.
Sunrise.
I melt
into the black
of heart.
No sorrow.
No escape.
Alone —
the cross,
the naught.
The red dew's
in my palms.
Am I just asleep?
I wished — but
have I found it?
Why’s nothing left in me?
Blood is in demand
for a public show.
When crime becomes the rule,
you pay the price you owe.
Do what they’re telling you.
Lie when they’re saying “lie.”
It doesn’t depend on you —
you were born
just to die.
But where is such a place
to hide from prying eyes?
At the crossing of all ways
I scream to deaf blue skies.
No answer —
He is dead.
The price
of peace of mind.
I no longer need your hand.
But where are you?
Felt
behind?
Banshee
© Copyright: Мартель Этранже, 2009
Свидетельство о публикации №109031701604
Свидетельство о публикации №109031701604
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