Classic Poem

The afternoon arrives suddenly. He, as a person, is pushed into the bottom of the chair. His arms hanging slack, the world begins to darken. The world's sufferings drive him into his single being. The world's sorrows gouge out his eyes. Like an empty socket, the door, opened, leads directly into the past, it seems to him.
From the window the town where he was born is vaguely visible. Rain is falling on the town. For the past twenty years, between the wars, the rain has soaked the ground. The town has changed its shape many times. And the town of his childhood memory is expunged from this town. Once mother was beautiful, and grandmother must live in the real world as well. The past goes through the door, wordless. And it becomes connected to a part of the future. The rain collides with time. Before his eyes, the rain is wounded. A bandage! An ordinary middle-aged man walks past holding an ordinary black umbrella.
What can he do? Innumerable hands come through the opened door onto his shoulders, and with a slight pressure cold lips lie on his lips. A kiss without passion. And it's painful, that he tastes deep bliss.
You came to kill me.