Poetry - Draft - Train of Thought at a Dead End

Train of Thought at a Dead End

You did not take the morning train today,

And you're afraid that now it's lost forever.

You know it, but you are afraid to say

That you won't make it to your destination. Ever.

You took your dream and realized it, but

There'll be another; it won't disappear

Like you did. You don't need a lot.

And all you need is this for you to hear.

You are a whore, a slut, a bitch, a wreck,

You don't deserve to neither breathe nor be.

You're not a human, not a chelo-vek[1].

You cannot think and no, you cannot see.

But you will hear this, I command you to,

You need to step away from this euphoria,

You want to be yourself, and others too,

You have to choose or life will do it for you.

Oh babe, how many characters you are,

Your smile is like the one of Mona Lisa's.

And yet, you're like a self-destructive star,

You'll blow apart into a thousand pieces.

There is no turning back and no detour

At a dead end. All what you've worked for, halted.

Your game's main rule is racing for the cure,

And now that you have won, you're not exalted.

You are aghast. As well as you should be.

Your moral game is at its final round.

You're naked, on the cross for all to see.

There's not a ray of light and not a sound

In your prostrated, empty, thoughtless head,

It feels like days, yet, only passed an hour.

You wait. You only wish is to be dead.

But you're not god, and you don't have the power.

You're paralyzed… But upward from the neck,

Which leaves your body running wild and free.

You're not a human, not a chelo-vek.

You cannot think and no, you cannot see.