New Year’s day is approaching Short paced like a reincorporated baby All was built of blood till then Reduced to ashes through sculpted veins Oh, cosmic red dust don’t cover the roofs of my town even after the death of time Living water will flow out in its ring-shaped parks, The Conqueror’s soul will guard and star from above.
The sorcery of fertilizing the burnt planets - Haik’s favorite word will always split From clear yards and festive rituals To warm freezing hearts filed in rows Fixed In the public square’s poternt memory.
The Lord, set me free from the pain to be a prophet, I see how mild and delicate have become the synonyms of future and it is sacred duty to wish for the New Coming and ever becoming of
Poet …