Записки Безымянного [поэзия] (Прохор Николаевич Озорнин (Тимонг Лайтбрингер)) Страница 1 - Литвек

So you were born, a helpless man,

Who would be strange for now and then,

And who would not be understood

By parents in his childhood,

Who would soon start to feel as so

He's one of soldiers in the row

Without mind, without heart,

All struggling to escape this, but...

But it will be in aftertime -

And we return to what is prime.

You were a child, small and funny,

Who learned how to cry for mummy,

Whose world was in her lips and hands

With no idea where it ends.

But years passed, and you grew strong,

And found soon that you were wrong,

And found world ahead of you

Along with things, not much, not few,

Along with men, all old indeed,

Not knowing where it will you lead,

Now knowing how you will soon feel

In being someone other's meal,

In being someone other's toy

As they but mock and laugh in joy,

For they have found you as "strange"

When you appeared in the range,

When you refused to play with them,

When you showed no respect to Sam,

When you was almost all alone

Within your own thoughts and tone.

Man-in-itself in all the aspects,

Without need for fame and respects,

Without wish to behave so...

Not like a soldier in the row.

Oh, boy, not soon you understood

That it was not for bad, but good,

That it was like a road's stone

For no one said there would be none,

For no one said there was no price

For understanding of such size,

For possibility to grow

Not sacrificing to The Row.

You were the different, alone,

For many others - road's stone,

And by some person's wish for fun

You were then called "another one".

You tried to make them understand

That you could give a helpful hand

To help them see the other sun …

But they just laughed : "Another one!".

You tried to help them feel as so

They are unique in the row -

That's similarity you’ve fought,

You tried to help ... they listened not.

Another one you have become

In their eyes in days to come,

In their endless wish for fun -

Thus you have born, Another One!

It would take many days to see

That they were right, and to agree

With their nickname of this kind,

For you are now a man of mind,

For you can now respect the others,

For you can see them as the brothers,

For you can distinguish them all

Though they may look like bricks in wall.

For you can help them see the sun

When one of them is in the run,

When one of them have not at all

Intentions to be Brick in Wall.

You've grown to the man of mind,

There are few ones on your side -

And even fewer who can grow

To break one day that cursed Row.

So now relax, and just have fun

In being this ... another one.

The Earth is cradle for the men ...

But that is just the part of plan,

For it has yet another side -

The Earth is sleeping deep inside.

And with the Earth sleeps humankind ...

There is potential for mind

That was forsaken long ago,

The man preferred to lay it low.

That man preferred to fall asleep ...

It now, like newborn, breathes deep,

Yet knowing nothing of his kind,

There is little use for sleeping mind.

He has forgotten whom he was

And he has still so many foes,

Who hunt for him in own dreams ...

He's always victim - so it seems.

He may believe in thousand things,

To these beliefs he always clings,

But there is yet the other side -

He's sleeping deep, so deep inside.

There are so many forms of sleep ...

You'll have to make a quantum leap

To free yourself of dream's clutch,

All what’s at stake - it's just too much.

There are more than one way

To end the night, to bring the day,

To step past shade, becoming solar,

To soar high, to fly as stroller.

If you are victim - you shall suffer,

Your tortures will become all tougher,

And day will come, you faith'll be shaken -

And from that pain you'll awaken.

If you are stronger than the rest,

If heart still beats in own chest,

If heart is always full of fire -

Than your solution is desire.

Destroy your cage in own wake

And grow inside you what it take

To shape your heart and mind in one,

To dive in self, to dive for fun.

Awaken now, awaken, sleeper !

There is still time before your reaper

Will take you out of this life ...

Just throw away your fears, dive !

If own fire will be lit

And on the paper it will feed,

And for this guide in dire need ...

Than it is yours - and so be it.

Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide,

And pain now serves as some sort of rite

With no means to heal the tortured soul …

There is but no cure for things that are foul.

No target to strike, no foe to fight …

That doesn't look good, that cannot be right!

And all of the might have too died within,

It sank in the void and cannot be seen.

Nowhere to go, no reason to live...

Until it's gone you will never thrive,

You might gnaw it through - yours life golden cage,

But that'll only feed this beast's endless rage.

You cannot escape, you may only hide,

But this beast can wait - for he is your Pride,

It may sleep for long in souls like sky,

But he is eternal - and thus cannot die.

You will once submit, you cannot resist,

For will long have gone, for road always twist...

It will be the greatest and fiercest beast

For ones lost in fog, for those lost in mist.

And one day your eyes you will sacrifice

To obey his orders in search of a prize,

You will start to live in dreams of your size

Once your foul Pride will be on the rise.

Stop running for now, and face him alone -

And face him in battle, face him being prone,

Face him being poor, face him being rich,

And have once the courage to lay him in siege!

You cannot escape, you may only hide,

But this cannot help - for he is inside.

Once being awoken it will bite and tear,

And what is the worst - he sleeps just so near…

Can you hear my voice? I shall speak of your choice,

Of the bonds you've been given, of unreachable heaven,

Of the freedom you've lost to become nameless ghost,

Of the life you do live, helping prison to thrive.

Can you hear me now? You are one in a row,

Perfect soldier in all but to find own goal,

But to follow your mind which is gone with a wind,

And to find own path, being "I" and not "Us",

Being one in a crowd, stepping your own road

And ignoring comment, that thus safety does end.

One, who wants to break free, one, who wants to be man,

Needs willpower to see - he's a slave now and then,

Moving predefined ways, speaking his usual "nays",

Watching all-common faces, racing other ones’ races.

Never will slavery end, never will prison break

Till you find inner land - and the willpower you seek.

Will you hear me now, being one in a row?

It's your mind who'll break free - and one day that you'll see.

I have been given flaming blade

To pierce night and fight with shade,

And it is glowing with that fire

The source of which is my desire.

It has seen war, it knows of peace,

It chopped heads, it burned grease,

And it executed swift death,

For some it's curse, for others bless.

It has severed diseased limbs,

It has exposed others’ sins,

It was a torch for ones in dark,

Cut out exit to those stuck.

It settled disputes in the world,

It used to touch the right heart's chord,

Its clang alone can make heart brave,

And it is lost for those who rave.

It is engulfed in the flame

And thus can make its wielder lame,

It brings uncommon sort of fame

Which clears heart and grants no shame.

Yes, I can feel its heat in hands ...

This blade has traveled many lands

And many battles it has seen,

Those

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