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Waiting For A Sigh Of Relief
I die…in the presence of mortified space,
Faded…here’s no any vital trace;
Bleeding…the sharp blade slits my veins,
Strangulation… in omnipotent quietus’ chains.
Desperation…Oppression…
I cannot dislodge rampant feeling,
Illusions’ waterfall
Rains down. From dingy ceiling,
Lurid atmosphere
Adorned by colors of propagating pestilence,
Tragic odd voices,
The scorching breath as death touches my hands.
Molten…Inside the memories’ torrent,
Voices throb, their echoes are abhorrent.
Longing corrodes my thoughts and innards,
By intensive etching. Along the wall I slither.
Odor of my mental putrefaction,
Stifling silence alters the dislocation;
Withering illumination by glimmering light,
Total consternation of hope as satellite.
I quench the erasing will to live,
Amputated soul is stained by disbelief;
Entwined in tribulation and grief
Waiting for the final sigh of relief…
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Fragrance of death that inspires me
To walk the path of serenity,
Oversaturated insanity’s nectar…
I surmount the gravity barriers.
Mind is electrified and overfrown,
That was the threat I’ve never known;
As if by invisible mastermind’s will
I dig the tunnel inside myself to the freezing still.
Ebony rivers of apathy flow inside my veins,
The liquor of suicide shackles me in pestilence
Of sempiternal agony. It cares me out to Netherworld,
Where I will burn eternally. In boiling madness’ cauldron.
Sharp blades, blunt rusted nails and needles,
The harakiri ghost has done my mind enfeebled.
Skin is cut to thin patches by disbelief’s scissors,
In a flame of blissful anathema I melt, my soul blisters
Slowly…
Rotten to the core, I open the gates of silence
Desultory oppression through hourglass …comes down,
The Sun is set down, nothingness becomes timeless,
My traumatized delight will never be found!
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