Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
Photo by Sergey VinogradovHire
“Some line is crossed…”
Feeling shuttered is a given
mortal sense,
written on certificate of birth
and carved out on the stone.
Silence is when there are no words,
only violence
breathing coldly
in the ear.
Some line is crossed,
and now return is
painful and dirty;
now the price is
disgraceful and costly.
The wall of ice
encircled brick-like heart,
and spread its frost along the veins
towards the brain
injecting the familiar pain
thus breaking the domain.
Waiting for the wings,
anticipating, like its water
from the desert well,
and the Hell –
Oasis to this world.
Poetry by Vladimir Fischer
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