Crucified Souls
The nagging pain was tormenting the heart. The burden of self-chastising that burns inside is worse than any disease. The gangrene of self-destruction where even amputation of infected organs is useless. The cruel executors were relentlessly cutting a part of my soul, justifying themselves by geopolitical interests, though actually worrying and caring of their own pockets.
The time was running out, the hourglass was getting empty, and it was necessary to clearly define whose side I would stick to. Whatever a person does, he or she always faces the dilemma of choice. Everything is very simple: either you clang a bell or you are hit on the head. While the front saw the deadly war against my people, I thought I was on the foe’s side. Everything convinced in that, whether I w
