The truck of honey
The truck of honey’s on the skin,
Sweet honey’s pouring instead of tears
All over cheeks, all over chin.
My son was born.
So, whose' that sin?
My son was lost without cost,
I’m fighting now one bloody ghost,
In dreams of horror and despair,
I see my future with no fair.
No one can presently foresee
The end of Light beyond the Sea…
The Sea of Life.
26-10-1998г.
Свидетельство о публикации №103070700555