Poems...

I'd also like to contribute to this section :)

* * *
Torn chains of a piercing wind,
Sick children of the star age
Each with a diagnosis: schizophrenia.
What will save them? Only the grave.
But, defying pain, against all laws,
Not bowing to rusty crowns,
Measuring curses, for millennia
Weak children become strong.
The fatigue of the soul turns into confusion,
The walls of self-oblivion crumble…
A sunny day. Happy people.
There is none of this in their world. There is and there will be none.
There is no warmth, no kind gaze…
Do you love me?
- No!
- And I don't need it!
January 16, 1997.

Sincerely, K0Lb@zzeR.