Den Khaustov

The Refugee

creative and elaborate person with avalanche of tangled thoughts roaming in the head that can unexpectedly align and pour out on a paper, forming a new piece of art

the third installment of the series including poems

He wanted her to be alive,
To learn to live without him.
She'd rather feel a tip of knife
Piercing in her translucent skin.

But disobeying the desire,
She triggered off the deadly race.
Her body seized with inward fire
Just evanesced among the haze.

The murderers of one she loved
Pursued her full of hatred stare.
Did hands they dipped in pure blood
Feel burning as each pore was bare?

She ran away in search for peace
Which irretrievably was lost.
Those gentle touches, flawless kiss
Now she can only get from ghost.

The creature of inhuman grace,
Tumultuous wind played with her hair.
She sensed that was the end of chase
When they appeared from nowhere.

They brought the refugee to bay
And looked in the disdainful eyes
Shining in sun's abundant rays
Till lifeless mask became her guise.