In daily routine, in the nightmares of mine
I can hear your lie which is keeping me blind.
You know, that I’m poisoned, you must now decide
If I should be saved, or I should simply die.
The surgeon’s standing near my bed:
My body’s alive and my soul’s undead
In life-support system. My hangman, your word.
You grin. And you leave me alone in my ward –
To struggle for life, for the glance, for my breath.
They wonder how I overcame my slow death.
I have never asked for injections and pills,
I can hear your voice, murderer, and it heals.
Murderer
© Copyright: Ксения Бутченко, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112082609613
Свидетельство о публикации №112082609613
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