Max Fomitchev-Zamilov | Poetry and Prose

Максим Фомичёв-Замилов | Поэзия и проза

That feeling
that clouds your mind,
That feeling
that squirms in your heart,
That feeling
that crawls through your stomach
that something is wrong.

Something is wrong with the world.
Something is wrong with the people.
Something is wrong with the nature.
Is there something wrong with God?

That feeling
won’t let you sleep.
That feeling
won’t let you rest.
That feeling
denies you peace.
But this is the feeling you can’t shake.

If there is nothing wrong with the world,
If there is nothing wrong with the people,
If everything is OK with the nature,
If all of this is a part of God’s plan

Then what on Earth is wrong with me?

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