2. pro 2009.

Hell’s flower

Spots twinkle on petals
Like stars in clear night,
Gliding towards pestle:
Oh, what a lovely sight!

But pestle is lure for sinners
Like crown jewel of desire.
As a bee I drink its wine
To ignite my secret fire.

Wondrous is Hell’s flower,
Black as the mysterious night.
I pick it, but it picks me back,
And then joy turns to plight.

Flower that cannot wither
Has stalk covered in glue,
And then demon comes
Revealing purpose of its hue.

But then I rip off petals
With strength from above
Asking: “does she love me?”
Beating flower with love.

The glue turns to dew
And God’s rainbow appears.
My hand is free again
And demon disappears.

So then I find myself smiling:
There’s no urge to wake in scream;
Though a part of me still wonders:
Was Hell’s flower that bad a dream?

Autor: Domagoj Štic



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