The race of the outcast...

Sometimes each breath comes at a cost
And you don’t have enough to steer
Away from constant feel of being lost
In mixture with consistent fear
And doubt… that hurts your heart the most.

It’s when there’s something deep inside,
So dull and so unhealthy restive,
That calls your soul to run and hide
From all the good, from all the festive
You wished was always by your side….

Already given up a dream
You’re being chased by hate and rumor.
You tear yourself into a scream
To obviate this ugly tumor...
But you will never be redeemed.

You understand that it was you
Who caused the crowd’s indignation
By your endeavors to pursue
The object of your vast temptation
Something that wasn’t meant for you.

And in your search for peaceful place
To hide from blames and allegations,
To outlast your deep disgrace...
You won’t be granted the salvation
And you will lose this brutal race...

Copyright © 2010 by Yevgeniy Androsyan, All Rights Reserved