sadness

Nika Turbina (17 December 1974 — 11 May 2002), Soviet/Russian poetess

I take the stairs by going up to home. So want to go downstairs - no way. I open up the door, a key is made of stone, And darkness eats me right away. I am turning on the light, Instead of it a flame is licking face of mine. I do not see reflection in a frame, A veil of sorrow covered up my eyes. I want to open up the door - Alas! The key of stone, my treasured find, Was taken by the owner in a rush. How can I break a window? It laughs and rings with evil cold. And as I am crying uncontrolled Of being pushed away by someone My cheeks are cramping. I am shouting, A teardrop runs through sleepy eyes. I hear no sound but mother’s sigh: “Please wake up, darling, Do not be scared - that’s not a real life”.