I think that this is called graphomania , but I don't care. I'll post the poem anyway.
World of shadows
Sun is terrible
and so is the moon,
terrible and beautiful.
They shine
with a bliss divine,
that is not from this world,
not from the world of shadows,
not from the world of mine.
My world is just shadows,
faint and illusionary, no truth,
whatsoever,
no light,
whatsoever,
no love,
whatsoever,
no life.
Just death,
just sorrows,
just lies,
just shadows,
just me,
forbidden to breathe,
forbidden to drink,
forbidden to hear
forbidden to see,
forbidden to write,
forbidden to feel,
forbidden to live,
forbidden to love,
forbidden to dream,
forbidden.
But I breathe.
The air I breathe
is raven-black with all
the misery of the world.
Raven-black,
raven of death and sorrow,
raven of war and tears,
but still I breathe.
But I drink,
and all I can drink is dust,
dust and shadows,
deep shadows,
heavy with sorro w and blood,
thick and dark blood.
There is no wine nor water,
no clear and pure water,
nor wine that’s dark as Homer’s sea,
just shadows,
deep and dark shadows,
but I drink.
But I hear,
hear the crying of all world,
hear the cries of death and pain,
cries overrun with shadows,
thick and dumb shadows,
no music in my world,
just silence,
silence of the lambs,
silence of the innocents,
silence of the world,
silence of death,
crying silence,
silence full of pain,
of loud and soundless pain,
but still I hear.
But I see,
see the shadows,
see the darkness,
see the pain,
and do nothing,
just watch,
silently,
without a word,
doing nothing.
Shadows cannot do anything,
immaterial,
bodyless,
soundless,
heartless.
Go through shadow,
it’s defenceless,
it has no freedom,
it is cursed,
I am cursed,
but still I see.
But I write,
write dark tunes,
write with shadows,
write with blood,
I have got no ink,
all my soul’s just shadows.
May you have ink,
and light of mind to write.
I have not,
I am cursed,
I write with blood and shadows,
with big blobby letters,
with darkness of mind,
but I write.
But I feel,
feel the anger,
running through me,
like thick and fresh and warm and red blood,
wonderful blood,
blood of the dead,
and of those who, alive
walk on this land,
on this dark and forbidden land,
cursed land,
land of the shadows,
and darkness,
but still I feel.
But I live,
live the life of the cursed,
live the life of the sorrowful,
sorrowful and sad and cursed.
Everything I touch,
becomes cursed.
Gold of love,
changes in my hands.
Changes into lead,
lead of jealousy,
Silver of wisdom,
metamorphoses,
into worthless trash,
trash of ignorance.
Behold,
all those, who rejoice.
I will come,
and take away your joy,
and replace it with misery,
misery and harm.
Leave me alone,
for I wish no harm,
not the smallest of harms,
for anybody.
So leave me alone,
leave me cursed,
leave me forbidden,
but leave me at peace,
my dark and terrible peace,
peace, that You’ll be unharmed,
by me,
by the curse I bear,
by shadow I spread,
by the shadow I am.
Leave me my curse,
for I know nothing of life,
nothing of life without tears.
My life is cursed,
and forbidden and sorrowful,
and I bring harm,
but still I live.
And I love!
Behold, shadow loves,
loves the flame that cast him,
loves passionately,
loves forever.
Loves even after,
after flame is dead,
after fire has gone,
after sun has failed,
the flame and fire
that cast him.
Loves darkly,
love tainted with fear and hate
and sorrow,
but not forgetfulness.
For shado w is immortal.
Day dies and reborns each day,
but night is old,
old as shadow,
try to destroy it,
try to wash it away,
Wash with water,
wash with blood,
wash with pain,
wash with death,
it knows each of them,
and will survive,
and remember.
Shadow remebers,
remembers the light that once shone,
and dreams of it.
And I dream,
dream of the flame,
flame, that’s now just ashes,
greyish-black ashes,
greyish-black shadows,
greyish-black darkness.
I dream of a world,
where flame is greater than shadow,
where love is greater than sorrow,
where light is greater than darkness,
where life is greater than death.
I dream,
dream of illusionary world,
impossible world,
but my dreams are free,
free from my curse,
from my omnipresent curse,
free.
In my dreams,
I can be the sun.
I dream.
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