Preamble:
How after forty should the verse look like?
Of fight 'tween good and bad the theme is stale
Of love and loss 'twould be a backward strike
Of something blithe 'twill be a fairly tale.
We hoped there was a bottom of all lies
But on the endless fall we have just this:
The ambiance too drear to memorize
The stifling dark, the infinite abyss...
These senseless years my lost true love is otherwheres
Past so long time she's from the tearful dream appearing
But neither her nor my imaginary heirs
For sure shall count my rhymes worth quoting and revering
My revelations for the only chosen eyes
To my great sorrow presently won't find their readers
They're gone. And nowadays there's none to memorize
Except the wreck ruled by the feckless crappy leaders
Today reality is horribly surreal
Though l stay sober like an optic fiber cable
And every news is over torture, blood, and kill
Our woe stands still and still our frozen morgue is stable
The analogic point of view concluds in that
We're here the hostages within the fascist prison
No difference if you flee or never leave the flat
You will be shot or die devitalized and wizen.
The reigning bandits don't pretend the government
Not anymore. They even do not feign they're legal
They mock and scoff; they debilize us and dement
Then falsely worship the uncrowned two-headed eagle
... Some say you cannot stop the shit rain anyway
Especially when it befouls our land for ages
Beneath its pall our unrelieved minds err and stray
Among the ghosts of our departed guides and sages
The masses root the gloom and murderously drink
The psychos of my scale are yea much pessimistic
Our life is but the grain of light, the traceless blink
Whate'er is crammed in us by those, who's churched or mystic
As this world feels the fried cock peck its reeky ass,
It not just will not help us quench, it won't let breathe us
And till the killer's on the throne, he shall suppress
'Twill be the very hell on earth that's always with us
Photo: Authorship unknown