this instance... this silence... <br />the image of violence <br />the mirror is frozen <br />hatred... it grows on <br /> <br />the madness... the malice... <br />the dark of blind alleys <br />the horror... the power... <br />the most weird flower <br /> <br /> it blooms like a fire <br /> it smells of desire <br /> its petals are pure hate <br /> it is a dream of you, my mate <br /> <br />the wind of destruction <br />the stench of corruption <br />cold like the pole ice <br />gleam in the strange eyes <br /> <br />the ugly-faced fear <br />that blood-boiling fever <br />the ultimate shower <br />that feeds the weird flower <br /> <br /> it bursts like a fire <br /> it smells of desire <br /> its petals are pure hate <br /> it is a dream of you, my mate <br /> <br /> it screams like a fire <br /> it smells of desire <br /> its petals are pure hate <br /> i dreamed a dream of you again<br /><br />Max Kuvaev<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ambiguous-4/
