
Sometimes it comforts you to kill,
Like slowly boiling water.
The claim is such, that final bill
Eclipses every quota.
It kicked in slowly from within,
Yet nothing could be noticed.
No signs of it were to be seen,
Misleading was the surface.
It didn’t matter how hard,
Went on and kept on trying.
It had a quiet, silent start,
But silence was misguiding.
A single unexpected spark,
A thrust enough to fuse it.
And was all lit that had been dark,
The stillness was confusing.
And blessed art thou, had always been,
To read the indication.
Ability to catch the hint
Delivers the salvation.







Эта твоя работа могла бы быть наглядный примером в университетском курсе " Системный анализ"... От живого созерцания к абстрактному мышления…
A beautiful, deeply expressive poem, my friend, full of emotion and quiet intensity. You make the reader feel what is…
После прочтения ещё какое-то время сидишь и думаешь над его смыслом. Мне очень понравилось, как передано состояние, когда внутри происходит…
Good one, keep it up!
Sometimes, what hurts most is realizing the signs were there all along.