outsider

I`m out of your game, redeeming misdeeds,
released i am leaving your burnt battle-field,
sown with your plastic throwaway bones
that noone detects and noone restores.

noone is to blame, i give all the fame
to you and your cardboard swords.
your yeasty words are incurable whores,
i`m leaving this feast of murrain.


Рецензии