Yes, it's pained to die without words....
An empty quiet bitter taste of flours
And in a neck by dryness vices.
There are no looks, there is absence of you, and hands,
This hands already wadding, without hands...
Opened by avalanches is a streams of veins and sounds
Clinks as knocking to my heart, are single...
So emptily to die without words...
And a world is various by the cage of punishments
And you look at him by glass eyes,
There is no pain, senses and these boring revelations,
All got up into places it from now
And you by bandages on itself you, put's on you a cross,
You will get back for a short time, you heart is cool off only...
And again in dirt, by face, must be from abilities...
You will get up and will go by not those by paths,
In fact it is sad to die without words....
Passed by needles-knives...
Miracle sorcerer whose name is Love....
Miracle sorcerer whose name is Love
© Copyright: Харитонов Владимир, 2005
Свидетельство о публикации №105021601264
Свидетельство о публикации №105021601264
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