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IN THE AGE OF APOCALYPTIC WONDERFUL MIRACLES, Leila Samarrai “The Second Birth Of Tragedy”

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The word lost power, but the power lost not the word.
From weary mouths rests in diction
In the age of apocalyptic, wonderful miracles.

The Grand Idiot will be fed by Earth
And the meek will be buried under it.

Miracles prevail over Courteous Miracles
Courteous fire
Courteous solitude

From the cliff of eyes
Into the imaginary house
Under the dead tongue
Acrimony wants to plot.

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IN THE AGE OF FALSE TONGUE, Leila Samarrai

IN THE AGE OF FALSE TONGUE

Оh, stupidity, how many mouths have you fed
And how many masks sweetened!
How many spirits barred with rusty taste.

To know false flattery,
To smell infertile life;
Mirrors to the wolf
Galleys on lies, in trance.

But I know that naked truth is a dressed lie,
Magnificent urge watching the ruins.

In the age of false tongue
Without weapons and prow
I cannot conquer the world with symbols of certainty.

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