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Dec 2012
Bathing thyself in Lethe,
not ingesting, forgetting,
yet not reminiscing
on thyne torment,
though immersing
thyself in it nonetheless,
persisting on pain and uncertainty.

El ocΓ©ano sin agua,
ese is what thou art,
unable to breathe,
unable to control,
longing for a hand
to halt the quiver.

In the midst of submission,
thy capture in the seductive
dance of the monster,
thou utterst sΓ³lo una palabra,
β€œhelp”; the first and final request,
yet thy time in Lethe
were much too lengthy,
not one hand shall be lent
to those who menacingly,
cherish death.
Written by
Marie Stehlikova
  1.7k
   Nithin purple, BarelyABard and Night Owl
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