You asked me: "May be it's love?"
I didn't know, what to say.
If it's dark without you every time.
So I can't even see myself anyway.

If wine is water without you!
If the air around is more bitter than poison!
If I'm not me without you!
Every day less of you I feel like an old some.

Every my step is a step into hollow.
No forward or backward, into an abyss.
I'm empty, I'm nobody without you!
And every my next step will be amiss!

‘May be it's love?’ - you asked me again.
I realize that I'm lost at all.
I don't breathe, I don't live without you,
And the Universe is tiny for me in whole!

She doesn’t yell at anyone.
She laces her words with deadly poison.
Her voice is always so very sweet,
when she decides to finally speak.
Venom, it pours out of her mouth.
Especially when her tone goes south.
I am her victim, though I’m her son.
Sadder still, I am not the only one.
My sister, brothers, father still,
are all her victims, her precious ****.
But why does this woman hurt us all?
She was hurt once, so we all take the fall.

“Hello” is a bad word that sits at the tip of her tongue.
Like a snake’s venom, it is always there, always ready.
It lies in wait, hoping for the next unsuspecting victim.
The pain is preceded by hope. A glimmer of “Maybe.”
Maybe when those fangs sink into me, it won’t hurt me.
Maybe the sweet anaconda embrace is a hug this time.
Maybe this is the last time her hissed hello will bite me.

There once was a man of Pangaea
Who had an unlucky idea:
     He ate a strange shroom
     And then laid in his tomb,
Having died from insane diarrhea.

Sitting alone in a room,
I stared into my own tomb
Found some water, drank it up
It was poison in one’s cup!

Not just one cup, a whole pool,
Pool of poison, I consumed!
Poison made me lose my cool,
That’s how I became your fool!

Desperate to find the cure
I have found the lonely room,
Once more gazed inside the tomb
In there water, oh so pure!

"I hear the old man had a son."

"No, truly? Surely not."

"I can attest to it, I played witnessed
As part of their caerimonia."

"I'm moving him to Rome,
He'll live as my slave
And I'll make him a gladiator."

"Oh-**, that's rich! He died like an insect,
Sipping poison."


"How are we going to get away with this?
The walls are starting to close in."

"Relax, just change the dates. Make some edits."

"Nobody will notice?"

"I highly doubt it. Plus, they'd have to prove it. And we're sat on top of the evidence."

"How many times has this happened?"

More than once.

Poison in my veins
Thoughts I cannot shake away
Slowly I’m fading