Hello Steam Community , Recently I began writing poems. Inspired by the so-called muse that inspires writers and poets to create masterpieces. Inspired by completely ordinary things, flowers, cigarettes, unlucky relationships, dirt, snow, delusional people, burials , easy-to-go girls. Muse can be found everywhere, but hardly will outside success inspire people to achieve what a different person achieved, I think it is to some extent, envy.  

 I present to you my first poem.

Apocalypse

A King was poor, just a pauper
Talented mediocrity. The speaker became quite.
And the secret of eternity could unravel a fool.
The world has turned to darkness. The Desert became a theater.

All mixed up, all intertwined -
The Dumb, suddenly began to speak in poems.
And death came and started mowing.
And the blood flowed, where the flames burned.

No one thought of what came over the world -
Everyone was having fun, people were walking with devils.
The world has turned into a terrible feast
A terrible plague and a feast of death ...

Everything soon came to an end. the mowing stopped
Death has gathered everything that it wanted.
Plague and death and feast - all taken away.
And soon there was darkness. Obscurity, darker as gloom.