The Scapegoat

/, Poetry/The Scapegoat

The Scapegoat

The Scapegoat
The Nightingale Is Among Us Again
The End as Renaissance
A Reminder
What I Witness
A Source For Origins Or Roots
How The Eagle Sees It
An Island In Land

The circle closing

Who throws you the rope?
Time itself, the season for change…
Your own country.

You have stepped into it
tied your feet only
to swim the Adriatic
and sink like a torpedoed hull
to the bottom
stone-cold drunk

You have organized terrorist cells
with safe-houses in your body
beginning to explode

You have placed the noose
around your neck this perpetual halo
that hangs around you
now just a matter of time
when you will hang suspended
above an open pit

your own well of time, concentric
circles on a boundless surface

this noose is only the first


AuthorBogomil Gjuzel
2018-08-21T17:24:06+00:00 March 1st, 1998|Categories: Blesok no. 01, Poetry|0 Comments