Poezja

In blood sport 
you forget to die, disintegrating 
though, cell by cell. 
 
What an ambience─ 
of human nature? 
You drag the carcass─ 
 
of mutations whole life. 
Now, selling the virginity 
for charity? 
 
You build a castle─ 
of mud bricks as a tribute 
to undying love─ 
 
for the poverty 
of the saint, who had jumped 
into the river.