The day is boring,
night as well;
My friends are cold;
Myself I quell.
My heart is freezing,
brain is slow;
My feelings sleep,
I let them go.
I tame my thoughts -
"Do not be sad".
I'm slowly dying,
almost dead.
I live without
steady goal.
I have too much,
and I want more.
This slow madness
I can't stop;
I slide to darkness
from the top.
Leaves wither slowly
In my soul,
And tears of pain
don't stop to fall.
(June the 3rd, 2006)
Slow Death
© Copyright: Дмитрий Зигмундович, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112031800980
Свидетельство о публикации №112031800980
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