I am a poem born of a forced design,
Where vice is named and crowned as truth.
I cut my veins with plastic keys
For those who never chose to move.
A thousand times more sacred still,
I dwell inside a war-hard cell.
I cast a grenade — the world breaks sweat,
Breathes sulfur deep, and falls to hell.
I am a samurai of reckoning,
I meet deceit blade against blade.
What grief — that every poem’s strength
Must one day crumble, ash and shade.
13.9.2013
Стих навязанной системы
© Copyright: Серж Блэйк, 2013
Свидетельство о публикации №113091300592
Свидетельство о публикации №113091300592
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