My nonsense presence*
I don't remember since when
This seclusion has been begun
Perhaps I was drown in a fen
The world that I never belong
I've been lasted my nonsense presence
Grasping straws on a bank of sense
Being as a petty supplement
Matter to a bloody argument
Survival is not about saints
I wasted all given presents
Calling my life fabulous trifling
By sharpened thoughts of my writing
Though anyone cares whether curious
I feel urging to slaughter in furious
This feeble void I'm surrounded by
We are unheeded only for a while.
23.03.