Desolate
he drags his rags
towards oblivion,
with the mutilated spirit
and the empty soul,
while in his flesh crawls
morbidly
the anguish
and awareness of the end.
And she,
like a mirror,
reflects life but hosts nothing,
deceiving
seek happiness,
while shame consumes her slowly
with agony.
Poem(C): Me
''Shylock and Jessica'' (C) Maurycy Gottlieb
