Treachery
The profaned shelter from the rain,
I stood there, where once a body lay.
He showed me the doors to a novel ways,
He showed me the path to a foreign lands.
Showed me the way paved with temptation,
Showed me the way of struggles cessation.
Showed me the nights filled with bloodsport,
Spinning mass of familiar attitudes and faces,
Lying and truth telling words of false purport,
Restless, yet determined life-long pre-won races.
Showed me the lands where no one stood before,
Showed me the lands fanned with mysterious lore.
Showed me the withering and rotting of eternal rights,
The glimpse of them in a greasy pool of mud.
Descent of all sons of chance in to a deep night,
Crying wind's swipings in a shelter of a God.
Now, I have become a God.
---
In memory of Ian Curtis - 15/07/1956 - 18\05\1980
Treachery
© Copyright: Дмитрий Гробов, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116071507766
Свидетельство о публикации №116071507766
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