Solitude
Comes like a landslide -
And while you lose your stability,
You slowly watch yourself drown
In numerous deeds, success and failures,
But you're alone.
It's not only the absence of messages
On your phone,
But also a feeling of disintegration,
Ambiguity, emptiness.
When you do your best
To climb the highest tree,
Solitude breaks in like a burglar
And ruins your world.
With a memory keen and active,
You can spend some time
Filing complaints,
But the world won't listen,
And you find yourself in a dark wood.
By the end of the road
People who used to be rebels and now are seen as heroes
Walk but they're not allowed to leave the capital,
And they have to go through
All sorts of checkups.
You don't believe anything but nature,
And while it plays with your memories,
You start recalling your past lives.
As if you're playing a game,
You tend to see overwhelmingly realistic details,
And you touch the sky that falls down on you,
You see the house you used to visit in one of your previous
Incarnations,
You feel the scent of the same perfume,
You keep editing the lines you used to write
A life before...
Your 'torture season'
Is over when you find yourself
Lonely and cold,
On the floor
And people think you're drunk.
They think it's your fault.
But it's even more complicated -
You're lying on the floor
In the outskirts of Kyiv
Because you know too much.
A season of suffering
Is over when you see your name
Among the winners of one more contest,
And you're no longer green with envy,
No longer tied up with red tape,
And no longer black and blue.
You are whitelisted again,
But your soul remembers the days of crisis
And the faces of those who betrayed you.
One more life,
One more journey,
One more book,
One more prayer -
And you'll be liberated.
