Читать интересную книгу Сложные стихи на английском - Артем Тюльников

disguise.

Don’t melt unlit sunset is set to come through internet.

An afterglow is what I know to stow away and don’t let go (and don’t let go).

How dare you fornicate at present state when trust’s so hard to replicate?

I always knew you won’t obey until the end of my last day.

And now you managed to create a crate of my eternal hate that compensate my woeful freight that you humiliate.

How could you perpetrate my future fate by pushing down my stagnant plate?

I see your lies right through your eyes.

I used to patronize but now antagonize.

A blast of lust that rusts so fast.

You must have turned your past into a perverted vast…game.

You shouldn’t wait until sunset will bring an ardent evident.

Sunrise has come and stream of light just turned my heart into a fright.

No afterglow’s left to remain and now you drain my heavy life lane.

I mold a thought that holds a board captured with gloat on our sinking love boat.

It lurks beyond my comprehending, rending the end instead of mending.

Your harmless hack merged into whack with such a knack that hit my black rack of lack.

I see your lies right through your eyes.

I used to patronize but now antagonize.

A blast of lust that rusts so fast.

You must have turned your past into a perverted vast…game.

You shouldn’t wait until sunset will bring an ardent evident.

Sunrise has come and stream of light just turned my heart into a fright.

No afterglow’s left to remain and now you drain my heavy life lane.

Antithetical Compatibility or Views This World Does Not Accept

Torment deserted regiment, vigilant and vehement, as sturdy as solidified cement possessing a firm temperament, the one that you used to dement, it went AWOL, strayed sentiment of cognitive impediment. It wasn’t ordered simply meant watch you lament the detriment you always wanted to augment YOU THOUGHT OF IT AS MERRIMENT, – worth giving an admonishment.

I failed an only sacrament that was to bring atonement. It was affection I could not ferment, my mouth though still has its sediment; it volunteered to fragment our serene yet ardent settlement. Our love found its embodiment in hideous disfigurement, disturbing my integument unleashing deep embarrassment, I shoulda followed my presentiment.

I’ve never tried to confiscate things that I tend to obfuscate – curving the lines that should be straight, turning austere to ornate; it’s my addiction that has always been innate, so that I could elucidate the way I think, my mental state, it’s my desire that I cannot sate – what an atrocious stalemate as if I didn’t know whether to fish or cut the bait, more than a burden – a deadweight, my very fortress, my estate – venerable and intricate, the one that you alienate for it’s a jail where I am an inmate – non antagonistic and sedate.

I’ll never know your colours, I’m an achromate; your truth for me is vague and bifurcate. Our relationship’s a feud that I cannot placate, we mourn the loss of a clean slate. You bury what I excavate – a little hint to give me the gate. You cannot stand what I still venerate, my ideology from which I’ll never deviate. It’s our bond we desecrate being so fractious and irate. Those are the thoughts that devastate what we’ll never reinstate, a field where we could be cognate.

Why extricate to dump the freight – rubble which is agglutinate and is reluctant to abate. Then aggravate its dormant hate that once was locked inside a crate, motionless as though a snake invertebrate. Resuscitate my inner trait, nourish what’s been attenuate, allow to abominate the virtue they incinerate

So that my own tectonic plate – the one that isn’t tabulate but imperturbable and great – would move because of crazy rate, just like a river in full spate ready to crash any floodgate or just like waves truly wild and undulate as though they had one over the eight, of your convection to disclose my fate, as fragile as a piece of slate.

I sterilize macabre dyes, those that you never verbalize, groping around to catch your disguise which my own eyes can’t recognize. They vandalize my current ties I cannot briefly cauterize; if time is similar to miles, then to revitalize takes years as the crow flies.

It is unwise to scrutinize when you could blindly patronize. Just to reveal then ostracize the crippled gist that’s on the rise, – an omen of your own demise, a failure to memorialize but why do you antagonize to see how the land lies? Some things I cannot euthanize, I amble on anticlockwise. This is my point, I surmise, I should of cut it down to size.

A blast of lust that could coerce us to combust leaves us eventually nonplussed, it rusts so fast under that murky crust of ground dust meshed with disgust that gradually becomes steadfast.

It’s not mild wind that craves a gust to blow away the overcast, never have I been so aghast, – I’m molested and harassed and clenched by maws of your holdfast – one is abhorrence, another is mistrust, I doubt I’ll ever find contrast.

I cannot spread my sail that seems so vast, it’s been so long it’s almost grassed, and furthermore, the hoist is cussed, the navigation is concussed, my inner voice whispers: “avast…unless you want to bite the dust” as a result I’m downcast

That makeshift travesty is bust, some time ago it was robust; should not have thought the thing would last, – I have become an outcast.

Disfigured by the past, – all tribulations that have passed I must have lost my mast under that thick layer of must that I myself amassed.

INFA(N)TUATION