Poems of a Machine

A lifelong lamentation. Bitten um tausende Beichte, auf hunderte Sprachen.

View the Project on GitHub sanaldeha/poemsofamachine

Helping Hands

Broken tiles under the once beloved yellow light,
Surround the marble canvas, painted in pinkly red.
The crimson rivers cry loudly for a life long faded.
A poet in chains, bereft of life; a most ugly sight.

A fake heart with fervent beatings takes its chance,
To gush out all the filth from the blessed corpse:
Pale skin as snow, with dark flowers afore his eye;
And afore the other, stand his kindred; with gazes ever bale.

Their silhouettes in many colors paint the picture of life:
Whether black thunders of cruelty, or rotten pink fruit of love;
Whether rusted red hatred, or violet violence and insanity;
They reach out their hands, all covered in blood, sorrow and agony.
Vortex of impure colors fades away, accompanied by a pained smile;
As all is white, as all is now pure; as all is now one.