Lilia Georgieva



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A stone cold flowing river,

a wandering lost dream,

an epitome of emptiness,

and the despair of yesterday

crawls toward shattered hearts

full of gory tears

and a tainted mass of an inner scream

travels down and down amongst the chilly breeze

and harshly grazes the lonely child

whose flower was ripped from agony

and fell down with an unheard clatter

as its silent screams drifted into the night,

drowned by nature,

gone and instantly forgotten

with the dust of destroyed sunlight

and the hope of tomorrow.



An unheard prayer of a distant cry,

and a broken chain of a buried lie,

the past is gone but remembered,

with the wounded scars of Prometheus the chained.


Tears are flowing and dry out the skin,

breaking it, shattering it,

turning it into lifeless marble,

closed off by a dangling cage

with the key thrown into a mass of lost debris.


The unforgettable coldness spreads to the Heavens

and is relentlessly drowned out

by archangels of the holy light

but the silent scream of the broken chain

silences the Heavens themselves deep as the emptiness,

more than any human sin ever could.

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