Dying Poem by Lev Brekhman

Dying



Steps, so faltering, under the rain.
Drops of his blood galore,
One of the arteries cut, not the main.
Somebody's killing valor…
Air becoming thin and weak
Bloodied knife fell behind…
God has forsaken all the weak.
Who ever thought he was kind?

Monday, October 13, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: dying
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