He knows the word as it’s the law,
The aim, the outward way we’re heading for,
The means that could disguise the most disguised,
The art of staying firm to compromise.
He reads the image as a sign,
He feels the truth – the remnant of suspended time,
He polled the dice to hit a hidden aim –
One who possesses key to human game.
Though you may think it’s all your fate –
Can’t find the link to global gate.
You envy him access the road,
But it’s your soul that should reload.
My love can’t always stay unchanged,
But we upgrade it to a different stage
It now reminds of life, though more or less
We feel the pricks of pain resembling death.
март 2002
Архангельск
Key Possessor
© Copyright: Евгений Горчаков, 2004
Свидетельство о публикации №104022900624
Свидетельство о публикации №104022900624
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