Ненависть, Неверие, Надежда [поэзия]

Like that it's normal to believe
That lonely men are always stiff,
Divorced women are the stinkers …
Yet all of us considered thinkers.

Oh man, it's common to believe
That death is the eternal grief,
That life is such an endless race
With wildly rising-dropping pace,

That one should never be alone,
That happy days already gone,
And world will never be all right -
Cause all the others aren't bright.

And it's all known we possess
The right to make some constant mess,
We call it 'freedom' by the way...
That inborn right to fray and pray.

I just won't say that these are wrongs …
The hundred times it's sung in songs,
The thousand times it's told by lives
Of common folk who were just wise.

I cannot say that they were right,
For modern us they don't seem bright,
Still they did not posses believes
That are the source of endless grief.

The one I call the truly wise
Is that who has no prejudice,
The one who has the clear sight,
For only he will make things right.

One day you'll act as you see fit
And thus refuse some other's bid
To make it way it ought to be,
And once you've made it - you are free.

Гнев

My wrath is stronger than the will,
The wrath is only what I feel
And I will tear those apart
Who dare mock my bleeding heart !

Move off my way, you jackal’s sons !
I'll smash your faces, laughing ones
And I will teach you how to play
With love and heart, with dream and pray !

You'll dare not to say it so
Or soon you shall be ones in row,
Or soon you'll play your final part
And rest in peace in the graveyard !

I will bury those ones in tombs,
Who dare be those dumbest lambs
And will continue to persist
In making this all-tortures feast !

My wrath is stronger than you all !
I may go down, I may fall,
But I shall see you've paid your price
With own pain without size !

I am no victim and no serf
And for the kindness I won't starve,
I will bury it from you all,
You jackals soon will pay your toll !

The wrath, my wrath, it does descend,
It is so hot ... like desert sand,
And it's the desert in myself …
I'm long too thirsty and do starve.

But I won't drink my own tears,
I'll throw away those fucked fears,
I may be mad, I may be ill ...
Move off my way - for I will kill !

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