in #poetry2 years ago

They rested their buttocks

in the fiery coals of hell,

the clock no longer runs in your life

nature died for him;

Rage seizes his soul,

Seeing injustices dancing in the fire ...

Putrefaction, desolation, black blood,

excrement, death, hunger, thirst;

in the dreamy eyes of the poet

two calm tears run,

that coming to the fire

they refuse to disappear,

the bright drops come to life,

and a rose springs from it;

feel the vate, reborn love

finally your nightmare ends .....

Paradise, butterflies, lilies,

end of wars,

the poet, he is again.

I hope you like it, vote and leave your comment.

The image was taken from the web.-

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