Broken pieces of soul
Verity Own
Glass shards.
Broken pieces of soul on the tinned roof.
Where to head in the dark?
Love is a torture invented by exquisite sadist.
Another crunch…
And more, and more…
Where to head in the cold?
Death, with surprisingly warm hand, offers embrace…
And there is light in the tunnel…
Verity Own
Подобни Поеми
Darkness colder than death
My days retreat into the mists of delusion,
To the grave so hollow where dreams are interred.
In their inception, gleaming with false hope,
Laid [...]
666
шест-шест-пет гниещи душѝ
(ехо, ехото пълзи)
поглъщат светлина под наем
(кости, костите мечтаят)
с усмивка, врязана в плътта
(убий, изяж страха)
мъж без лице, лице [...]
Mistress Pain
the clock ticks on, immensely slow
grey fog engulfs life’s muddy thoughts
a wall of rain obscures the world
no trace of sound can be [...]
