THE TRAIN OF DECLINE
A twilight full of bitterness,
A dull and gloomy existence,
A deadly routine on the highway to nothingness.
The dictatorship of time has bound my lamentations,
Condemned to follow the hands of my decline.
Face to face with my failures and my excesses,
No victory will ever be celebrated.
To walk straight to the gates of hell,
To endure trials to harden my convictions.
A spiritual language before proselyte unbelievers,
The universal force in the periscope of my fate.
To play the slave for scraps of fleeting vanities,
An impossibility for my divine spark.
My tears have dried before the flames of the abyss,
Flashes of horror embedded in my memories.
To sing the symphonies of my oppressors’ imposture,
Like those alienated, docile, servile sheep,
Will never turn my aptitudes into a celebration.
The sun still does not rise
In the sky of my destiny.
The train of my life will never have wagons,
I have always traveled very light.
The journey has had only one direction since the beginning.
My priorities are reduced to my well-being,
I will rebuild my world with the shreds of pain
That have transformed my weaknesses into weapons.
I still have no time to devote
To the victimized lamentations of my entourage.
The glossary is murderous,
For humanity swallows celestial magnificence
Only to spit cruelty upon the face of the universal force.
Copyright © Auguste Romain Nyecki | Year Posted 2025
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