Too exhausted for life,
But too fearful to die,
All my thoughts are a strife,
I'm to frightened to try
To somehow fix my life...
Every morning I fall out of sleep...
And then nothing. No wishes, no goals,
No emotions, just strong urge to weep
All the stresses have taken their tolls.
I'm a robot. I'm broken. No power.
Every chore feels like greatest of feats.
Climbing steps? More like climbing a tower
Of ten thousand floors. And each day it repeats.
I could use metaphors, I could say something dumb,
Like "I feel I'm an onion who loves the self-harm".
But I don't feel the pain, all my feelings are numb,
and I don't have an itch of the weins on my arm.
I just want to have feelings,
to bring back bright emotions.
But for now I'm not healing,
I'm just swallowing potions...
Jan 24, 2021
Jan 24, 2021 at 5:33 AM UTC
Ideality.
It has many synonyms.
The best one's "boredom".
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 5:43 PM UTC
The stars were bright above my head,
but mind of mine was filled with dread.
How could my actions have misled
me to a hell like this?
What laws of nature did I break?
And where I made such big mistake?
And how much horrors will awake
and rise from black abyss?
I think this all began the day
I bought a house in the bay
I should have listened what they say:
this place was ****** for good!
But it was cheap, as deadly bogs
With crooked trees and stinky fogs
and countless hoards of homeless dogs
aren't pleasant neighborhood.
I lived there quietly for a year
and awful swamps located here
were not at all a source of fear,
but rusty house was.
I had to catch the rain with bowls,
the wind was welcome through the walls:
They, like the roof, are full of holes,
and hence my anger rose.
I couldn't then afford to fix
or to rebuild this house with bricks,
although I feared of facing Styx
if it was to collapse.
I hardly ever slept at all.
I heard strange noises in the wall
beside my bad, like insects crawl…
'Twas just my mind, perhaps…
And once I woke again at night
and saw a dim and lonely light
just at a border of my sight.
In bayous it appeared.
I quickly put my jacket on
and, trying to suppress my yawn,
I ran to that phenomenon.
That totally was weird!
As I drew near, I saw a maid.
She seemed confused and quite afraid
of something. 'Please, I need your aid!'
she cried. 'My brother's lost!'
I saw some teardrops cross her face.
I was bedazzled by her grace!
'I'll save your brother from this place,
I'll help, at any cost!'
With that into the night I raced
in an extremely thoughtless haste.
And under shiny stars I faced
what seemed like certain death.
A horrid beast from waters rose.
I noticed how the water froze
In pools that were a bit too close...
I couldn't take a breath!
I didn't, though, become a prey.
Twas quite a luck, I can't gainsay.
I don't know how I found my way,
but still, I reached my shack
I hear the beast's spine-chilling groan.
I know this building's my tombstone,
If only I could've somehow known!
Why can't I turn it back?
Moirai will any minute cut
my thread of life. I'm ready, but
I want that beast crushed by this hut.
Is this too much to wish?
What takes that devil so **** long?
Should I attract it with a gong?
Hey, freak, I'm here! What is wrong?
Just come and eat your dish!
But then... Two monsters at my door!
I started crying on the floor,
I loudly cursed, blasphemed and swore...
But then I raised my head:
"You found my brother! Sweet of you!
I hope he didn't catch the flu...
We need to go now, friend! Adieu!"
That's what the girl's voice said.
Mar 19, 2017
Mar 19, 2017 at 5:58 PM UTC
At last, we'll live in piece forever!
Four Horsemen will not ever walk
On Earth with sulfurous endeavor:
It's one past twelwe on Doomsday Clock.
Jan 20, 2017
Jan 20, 2017 at 11:12 AM UTC
I am building my shack in the depth of the woods,
So I'll never be bothered again.
They assume that I know all their bads and their goods
And I must give advice there and then.
Yes, I'm wearing a robe and I walk in the trees
With some animals running along.
I can heal your disease with some mushrooms and teas,
But I can't make you manly and strong.
I am one with the nature, but everyone asks
For some philter or prettier face.
I am tired of silly and pointless tasks,
So I moved to a prettier place.
Now I finished constructing this dwelling of mine
Where I'll hide from the rest of the men.
I'm not angry at them, they are perfectly fine,
When their mind isn't that of a hen...
Jan 6, 2017
Jan 6, 2017 at 12:20 PM UTC
He gazed at Them, as he was young,
As They — so strong, so great!
He strongly wished to be among
Them once, to be Their mate!..
Those soldiers with their shiny guns --
No doubt He was impressed.
And every boy'd see Them as ones
Who's best of all the best.
Of course He dreamed to be like Those!
So tall, so brave, so cool!
And surely, They'll defeat all foes,
He thought. Oh, what a fool!
He is now one. As every male.
The war is not a fairytale...
The bombs explode, the bullets fly.
The ones he knew all fall and die...
He doesn't look like Them at all.
They were so handsome, shiny, tall...
He lies in dirt, his jacket's torn,
His stomach bleeds. He feels forlorn.
No doctor's coming anymore.
No mercy's coming from the war.
He slowly blinks, His vision shrinks.
Last minute comes. He smiles and thinks:
"Is this what I was dreaming for?"
Oct 28, 2016
Oct 28, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
It lasts for centuries, no less,
A tyrany of one old mage.
His reign brought nothing but distress.
Noone was worshipping that sage.
So people started to revolt,
But all the riots were suppressed.
Though all of them were quite a jolt,
The rest of rebels weren't impressed.
They tried again, and then once more,
But those attempts could not succeed.
He was a mage one could adore,
Although his reign was crap, indeed.
\\\*
The girl just had a simple dream:
to build a rocket and to fly!
It seemed, though, there is no scheme
that worked, but all they were so nigh!
Her engines worked, and worked quite well,
Though not enough to reach the space.
But she was eager to excel
her skills. Oh, how could she retrace?
Her other builts were splendid, too.
She really had achieved a lot.
But dream of hers did not come true,
until that day she heard a shot...
\\\*
She quickly run to find that out,
relying on her trusty gun.
And what she saw there made here shout:
A portal shining like a sun!
Without doubt she entered it
and found an old man facing her.
He yelled he'd throw her in a pit;
she didn't want that to occur.
He tried to **** her there and then,
But bullet's faster than a word.
And she made smile a lot of men,
And they prepared her a reward...
Their magic was a helpful tool
to make her aircraft fly up high.
Her dream came true. That was so cool!
At last she's mistress of the sky!
Oct 15, 2016
Oct 15, 2016 at 2:28 PM UTC
(You can listen to my reading here: https://soundcloud.com/rusad-1/yellowind Though be prepared for my accent...)
***
Sit down please and have some tea.
Do not you mind a fairytale?
That, actually, appears to be
a legend from some distant dale...
There lived, they say, a wicked man.
That's not a very fairy start,
but that's the way this tale began.
So, lived a man with cruel heart,
His name was Yellowind, I think.
Oh no, that's surname. Jack's the name.
He always had an awful stink
of rot, determining his fame.
Though he looked noble, hat and suit,
his manor was quite nice and clean,
and very big. And hearing flute
while passing by was a routine.
And once whilst dark and stormy night
a dreadful shriek was heared at his.
Then thunder struck and deathly light
from windows shone. Ah, frightful 'tis!
In moment manor disappeared
and Yellowind'd been never seen.
Though lands of his are still quite feared,
as if they're in some way obscene...
So, how's your tea, my dear guest?
Another cup's here, if you will.
And story? It is not the best?
That's just a start! Now sit and chill...
A couple centuries has passed
another story hit the world.
It wasn't, actually, that vast,
just local ****** of a sort.
A house in the Oldton Hills
was bought by couple with a kid.
The deal was made, they paid the bills,
but soon they all regretted it...
The father found an ancient book
and dropped some blood on opened page.
His mind was crooked, he quickly took
a rake and killed his kin in rage.
Realization was quite quick.
He made a loop and hanged himself.
Police concluded he was sick
and put that book back on its shelf.
Ironicly, their surname's Rake.
As if the Fate there sat and grinned...
And — I can swear it's not a fake! —
The seller's name's Jack Yellowind!
The tea is cold now, I suppose.
Another cup then, here we go...
So, did some mysteries expose?
And are there things you want to know?
A man with only holes in purse
but rich with energy and mind
began his searches of this curse
as he could stop it, he opined.
He asked all villagers he found:
'It's Yellowind', the answer was.
He asked police, they were aground:
'He was insane, that is the cause'.
It didn't stop our brave explorer,
so he went out in the hills.
He reached the place where all that horror
Came into being with those kills.
The house was there, with doors unlocked.
The man came in and reached the shelf.
The book, then second... He was shocked!
Those cults! He really had to delve...
His nose, unfortunately, bled,
some drops fell down on a page...
He didn't **** oh no, instead
he went into the cultists' cage.
His fate was horrible since that.
Those ****** rituals, you know...
And how's the tea? You call me 'brat'?
You cannot move? And thoughts are slow?
What were you thinking of, my dear,
whilst passing by a yellow house
in windy hills. Oh, is that clear?
The rite is close, put on this blouse.
Oh, some more questions, by the way.
The person reading this, what's up?
You sure your health is all OK?
And do you know what's in your cup?
Oct 13, 2016
Oct 13, 2016 at 1:05 PM UTC
You're welcome, knight, I am not mean!
The cave's not best of all you've seen,
It's pretty dark and not that clean,
But still it's home to me.
You've come to **** me, am I right?
Oh, that's a really perfect night
To end my life in brutal fight.
I think that you'll agree.
But honestly, I'm bored with life.
So please, just stab me with your knife!
Just pierce my chest, just end this strife,
I beg you on my knees!
I'm monster, that we know for sure,
The Earth itself cannot endure
Such beast as me, there is no cure
For what I've done, so please,
Prolong this suffering no more
Of me and world; we both implore
You to remove this painful sore
That I have always been.
Just take your axe, your lance or sword
And strike me! I won't say a word!
And think about the reward
They put out for my skin!
I don't deserve a thing but hell
And I solicit to expel
Me out of this world, this cell,
My death is overdue.
I checked you out not once but twice:
You're shaking, you're as pale as ice,
You dropped your sword, you cannot slice
A beast that's facing you.
'Twas your intention all along,
And I said that I don't belong
Here, to this world. So what is wrong?
Just finish this, and fast!
I shan't exist, I have to die,
It's easy, like to slice a pie!
Just do this, please, don't be so shy!
...Ah, thanks. Goodbye at last!..
Oct 12, 2016
Oct 12, 2016 at 3:25 PM UTC
I wish that wasn't me.
I look at the bodies of my beloved and my son and wish that wasn't me.
I look at the ****** knife in my hand and horrible wounds on their bodies and wish that wasn't me.
I remember coming home drunk.
I remember her being angry at me.
I remember my head aching.
I remember her yelling at me.
I remember shouting at her to shut up.
I understand making a mistake of taking the knife and screaming at her.
I understand making a mistake of stabbing her again and again, crying at her to be silent.
I regret looking up and noticing my son weeping at the door.
I regret screaming at him to be silent as well.
I stare at my hands and the ****** knife.
I stare at the corpses of my dearest queen and my heir.
I wish that was me.
Oct 9, 2016
Oct 9, 2016 at 3:19 PM UTC