Choked with melted gold.

You watch your fate in my hands.

This vision makes you so hot.

And I wish I would be so mighty

To own you under my legs.

But you are a seed and you can

Root and bloom through my chest.

Your still waters boil the fiends

In the teapot, prepared for lunch.

Wine fills the poisonous cups.

With pearls into your womb I cum.

I teach you my DNA.

You raise the demons of mine.

Then you drive spikes to their hearts.

The trust you bury alive.

Your hair is coiling like snakes.

Pandora`s box of my reign

Is open.

So you are to blame.

You break the sand-glass into dust.

You weep with the tears of mint.

I want to put you in chains,

To carve your forehead with "SLAVE"...

I want you.

Stop and exhale.

The air is fresh. Radiation.

You`re loyal like a spaniel.

You expect from me certain actions.

You sow the poppies- "Inhale!"

You come to me.

And you bend your knees.

I gulp my saliva, like a sword.

I appeal for mercy the cockcrow.

Domination. I am your God.

But something tells me - I am bogged down.

Something tells me - I am in distress.

I wish I would better run out.

But my heart throbs to my chest.

My legs are becoming rubbery.

You will leave and I will fall dead.

And no poppies can promise recovery.

To escape! The fire expired!

But I bear my cross to the Calvary.

2017

The Beauty

– What is beauty, my dear Lord?

– Banks of snow on the graves,

Bullfinches` bloody craws,

Candle fever in your hands.

– What is silence?

– It`s the Moon,

Stiffened wax on pallid skin,

Dreams devouring your mind,

Gentle whisper of the Doom.

– What is kindness, my dear Lord?

– Kindness is the bullet`s speed

That retains your smile on face

As you`re falling down to bleed.

2017

The Neverland

I`ll rive all nerves inside your mind

As human dies inside your eyes.

Inside your soul is cruel dark,

It meets the strike and turns to spark.

I will ignore the soul noise

It`s better music than your voice.

I`ll paint it blood in all details,

Those dragons fly in fairy-tales

I`ll fetch my ass to Neverland

For things I`ve promised to defend,

In shattered walls of dust and lust

I`ll find new things to be discussed.

I will disgust, I will tear out

All things I am to say aloud,

I`ll bleed my hate to sniffling sins,

But do my best to be convinced

In purity of sacred soul,

In things that happened for control,

For new cold snow, for my mute plea

And lucid reason of my need.

Of need to scream and to be heard.

Of need to stab and feel the hurt,

For cruel mind to make the wounds,

For body lay in silent woods.

2016

These are no gods who bake the pots

These are no gods who bake the pots,

These are no gods who left me burns.

The scream freezes on lips.

Horn of Amalthea is down and spilled.

I used to be strong and prolific.

But I let the Trojan horse in.

Can you hear the sound so dismal?

These are groaning salts of cold seas.

My heart leaps up from the chest.

Bloody red is the dew on my lips.

You squeeze my poor throat.

I will never revive by your kiss.

I will die as soon as you want it.

I will turn into shrill light,

Between shadows I will be haunting,

And I`ll thrive on the king`s head in July.

These are no gods who bake the pots;

These are no gods who grow the trees.