lullaby-creepy-gloomy-dark-surreal-artAnton Semenov

I have no wings

Only a single inert feather

Budding beside

A protrusive blade

So I crawl

Wondering how far

The horizon, thinking

Even the surface would do

I study the stalagmites

That form on my mobile

My milk tears spinning

Singing out to you mother

I wonder how many hours

You left me there

Waiting for my shell to crack

Knowing that only death

Could emote such horror


I, a giant grey tongue

Absorbing, hungry

Too innocent

To activate filter

Poisoned by vitriol

In degrees too excessive

To habituate


This the second of my autobiographical poems