Cannot choose a place in which
time flows slow enough to heal
deeds that harmed me all the way;
reach the state that brings relief.
Peaceful watchers of the light
(can I please 'em with my thought?)
will, if possible, observe,
care for my misguided soul
Demons ward me in this realm -
these are only tears of mine
dried by iron rails of roads
I've been trampling for decades
Guess that someone evil-eyed
holds my voodoo-doll in hand.
This resemblance is in fact
causing me to suffer pain.
адреса: https://www.poetryclub.com.ua/getpoem.php?id=518567
Рубрика: Філософська лірика
дата надходження 20.08.2014
автор: Jonny Evilko