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  • NOBLE POETRY  

  • I hurt in everything


      
        
      


    It's day again and again. My heart pounding and straining again, and every moment what existence obscures! The ancestral mercies of mercy are not yet reserved for me! Sometimes a rusty office door squeaks loudly, - the reading of names is heard aloud, in a silence pregnant with murder: the messengers, the philosophical nebulae, the green-eared ones go to execution in order.

    The patented buttons of a dressed-up, masquerade suit cracked over me in a cauldron of stifling heat when it came to testifying about the knowledge I had acquired, because one could hardly do anything else! “During the day, glass and crystal palace-shaped tear-balls rolled down like soft and gentle praying screams in the grooves of faces: the immortal vibration of fear artificially aged us to our humiliated moments. It’s as if the secret law of hopelessness on this planet is asking for admission - but no one is afraid to hear it. He was praised by a camp of eminents who knew everything better

    licking soles with brighter spirits! - I wanted to know, unravel and recognize the ancestral-One secret: How can the justice of merits really work? With delusions, nail-boggling - surely I have encountered more than the humane speech-charcoal! But only the adolescent revenge of legitimate complaints, of judgments flickered away from me; unworthily and sincerely as it once was

    they were called libraries of the brain. The creative intellectual workshops may have closed their proud gates forever!

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