Split

Above the city – soot. The sky – a damp vault,
Stars rot in a phosphorous haze.
Ash has covered the petrified, dead steppe –
The torn chest of the sick earth.

Behind the glass, a cold ulcer fades,
Abysses roar, and bridges crumble,
And time – wounded – bleeds down the spine,
Sewing tenderness into the scars of darkness.

In embraces, clenched as if in a coffin,
Where every vein is a rusty, sharp wire.
In this spasm, in the crushing minute,
We swallow the salty sweat of despair.

A heavy metronome pulses in the temples,
Stamping the rhythm – the universe’s finale.
While beyond the frail, faded window,
Rises the tribunal of frozen death.

Concrete walls bite into spines,
We seek an exit in the twisting of arms,
Around us – thousands of blind tortures,
And every moan is a metallic sound.

Your pupils – two empty halls,
In them, candles of memories and dreams go out;
We tore at our own flesh, beside ourselves,
To kill the echo of alien elements.

The world decays into dust and smoke,
Iron crumbles under the weight of night,
Two frozen in a silent duel,
Who are we? Are we still human?

No, we are beasts, pressed to the edge,
Forcing fear deep into the marrow of our bones.
Your heartbeat – the only thing I hold
Among the ruins and icy thoughts.

The last beat. A brief, hoarse moment.
The clock of the cosmos has slowed its pace.
In these arms – one pain for the two of us,
And icy granite presses against the ribs.

Two drops of mercury in the mills of oblivion,
In the tangle of nerves – an intent to choke.
Only this spasm – all of earthly life
Frozen in the throat as an attempt to wake.