I entered this hate-fed village without a shield.
It seized on my throat from a scorched, barren field.
The chakra in my blood is a cage and a soul.
I gaze at the black sun—no tear will unroll.
I stumble from the script, defiant, untrue.
What hope has a rabbit when the serpent breaks through?
The chakra’s raw current grows tighter, perverse.
I dream of the black sun, with visions accursed.
My mind is a forge where the embers won’t cease.
Love looses an arrow that grants no release.
But the chakra in my blood is my armor and skin.
I gaze at the black sun—it won’t let me win.
I could have surrendered, been swallowed by flame.
But I’ll die on my feet—my chakra’s my chain.
It forges my body, my frame and my mask.
I gaze at the black sun… scarlet eyes burn in grasp.
àäðåñà: https://www.poetryclub.com.ua/getpoem.php?id=1046443
Ðóáðèêà: Ëèðèêà ëþáâè
äàòà íàäõîäæåííÿ 25.08.2025
àâòîð: kobralalala