Артем Тюльников
Сборник стихов на английском
Anxiety
Cold sweat, left all alone.
I feel everything's gone.
My pain overwhelms me,
My head won't let me be.
I try not to look back,
I feel a panic attack.
My thoughts are really fucked up.
I need this shit to stop.
My mind doesn't feel mine.
That is end of the line.
Don't know how to get out.
Have failed to live without.
Can't find strength to pull through.
This is so very true.
I've lost meaning of life.
I am such a lowlife.
Why Won’t You?
Why won’t you stay here,
With me forever?
Why won’t you hold fear
Back altogether?
So we could live free,
Under a love tree.
But you destroy us,
Making some real fuss.
You say we'll never
Work and whatever.
I say we should try,
But you must deny
All that I tell you,
All that I go through.
All that is left now
Is to just know how
Never surrender,
Enjoy the splendor.
Live merrily and
Laugh till the dead end.
When War Was Standing at Your Door
With fulgent days of yore gone, life is but torturous, unbearable a chore to watch your sun fade as the rain of someone’s war becomes a heavy downpour. The skies have long not seen the flying kites that used to frivolously soar into forgotten silence that cannot but thunder with the firearms’ uproar. You hear but war with deaths galore all darkening another door.
With eyes shut tight one looses deafening sharp shrieks “No more!”, and sees the red mist scarring voice till throat feels desperately sore. While mouth curved in shapes that seem to never knew the smile it wore, it recognizes only effigies of pain distorting faces right at the alarm’s encore. When war has picture-perfect terror etched on your soul and knocking at the door.
Well knock it off and fight, comrades, think of the oaths you swore to keep them straight on twisted battlefields, all blood and gore. Stand firm, strike true remember what you’re struggling for, be strong to give another agonizing but decisive pull to tug of war. At last let’s spare no pains to show this blasted war the exit door.
To enter fight detached is to proclaim yourself a man of straw – one’s so much stronger with his love at heart, quick on the military draw. Sensed are choked, all feelings numb, the soul is coated into icy hoar until affection grows inside, enkindling; spurs the bitter cold to thaw. When war is chilling to the bone the front, love’s heating at back door.
It matters that this not frost-bitten civil folk all know the combat score to settle it with enemy at any cost with moral never falling through the floor. Or stop the warring left arm, give the right one, diplomatic, for the welfare, the entire future of your motherland, oh I implore: When war is nigh don’t hide, abstain, or ever bar the door.
In action on your last legs things may seem to be quite rotten in the core, and there’s at once a room for sentiments, all living, breathing in the raw They bring back memories of home, its soothing hearth that you forswore to fight against a common threat no human can escape from or ignore. Is there a chance to make it back alive while lying at death’s door?
The chance’s been ours all along thus it’s a must to set big store by knowing and commemorating your own country’s military lore. Forget not brave, devoted lives that unforgiving combat tore, value their hearts for all atrocities with might and main they bore. In times when war was out there, standing at your door.
