1. MOTHERWHORE

For no hope I seek, but
The shroud of other dimensions.
For not in the abyss I sink, but
I laugh at my self-murder

Treacherous warmth of your hands
Touch my asexuality
And I would have torn up this contract
For life before my birth,
But I locked in the flesh doll
Which was given a name.

You increase the grief,
You are the window to the world of humans.
I`ll gain my strength and spit upon
The orifice with putrid blood.
And fresh skin of a child will
Be dressed up in the dead clothes
And a tombstone will begin to smell of a maternal milk.

When a birth-mark is a seal of curse
And metastasis is a foreshadowing of deliverance,
I`ll cleanse my blood of thy leprosy
Right now or even before the sweaty agony.

So who you are, who you are?
A shiver of saint name or a Babylon whore?
When the yoke of a slave is male genitals
And the figures of prison-keepers are crowned by wings,
After having transcended the final tunnel
And having attained the sulphur nature,
I`ll howl in your ears every full moon.
Among the souls downtrodden by curses,
Among the holy men choked with rottenness.
I will eternally growl at your body
In the white bed sheet, motherwhore
I will trample down your footprints and tears.
Sepulchral howl of broken hearts
Is only echoe of billions of screams of the newborn.
There my footprints will leave salt,
Yours ones will leave mildew.