Euthanasia

Penned in a dark room
Already shiny scalpel...

Penned in a dark room
Already shiny scalpel
No, there’s no mercy
Who’s born sick is falling
There’s either religion or safety
Don’t swallow the bitter fruit
You’ll be sick in the next months
Spit it before toxins
Infect your blood
Already sick
Already sick and never cured

I flee in euthanasia
Of my thoughts
Death condemned
In agony
I weed, I weed
I flee in euthanasia of you
Of your blue eyes and of your hands
I dribble the arrow
Before it strikes me

Maybe from a poisoned field
They rise only flowers
Rare beautiful
Fated to rot
And putrefy
After few hours.


Time…