Death...
This cold word makes me stiff.
I can't feel even grief.
My silent tear dries
Not falling from the eyes.
My nails sink in the palms.
I raise my bleeding arms
To hit in trance a wall
But can't feel pain at all.
Can't feel and even cannot cry!
I wish I could instead have died!
It is too gruesome and too hard
To live with it and have a heart.
12.04.04
Death...
© Copyright: Юлия Эбервейн, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108103104197
Свидетельство о публикации №108103104197
Рецензии
The Death, why she needs? no, live much better! What beside you strange thoughts...
But here realy possible write the poetry on the other languages? on french for instance)?
Ккг Спс 01.11.2008 03:22 • Заявить о нарушении
But here realy possible write the poetry on the other languages? on french for instance)?
Ккг Спс 01.11.2008 03:22 • Заявить о нарушении
Of course, life is much better than death. But Death doesn't take it into account... This poem was written after the loss of a very dear person.
I came across French, German, Spanish poems here. So it's really possible:)
Юлия Эбервейн 01.11.2008 10:17 Заявить о нарушении
I came across French, German, Spanish poems here. So it's really possible:)
Юлия Эбервейн 01.11.2008 10:17 Заявить о нарушении