I can't grasp what they claim is so noble in me,
Or why people keep pestering me with their grace.
Let them pass on ahead, let them speed up their pace—
Fires swallow me whole.
From these flames comes the oxygen I consume;
In these flames, I regain the retreat of the womb.
Let the monster erupt, let him dig his own tomb
As befits a lone mole.
whack-a-mole
© Copyright: Владислав Вольнов, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126110801072
Свидетельство о публикации №126110801072
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