Bird of the boredom
Flys under terrible sun;
Stairs to heaven have broken
And bitter wine that we have drunk.
Insidious time is stealing us always,
Destiny contains silence and truth
But these gloomy days
Move inside leaving your room.
Rows, emptiness, hatred, dirt,
Ash, falsehood, dreams and reality.
At first it was a word
Faith may be holds negative
But in short all is a nothing!
There is a black
© Copyright: Сундучок, 2003
Свидетельство о публикации №103112200338
Свидетельство о публикации №103112200338
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