You are little and tender snowflake,
You will melt in my hand, on my palm
But I cannot but burn so I take
Your last life, my love causes harm!
You need someone who’ll give you the feel
Of still life just a kind of welfare!
Does the flame pretend to be real
In your flight, air-child, how I dare?
So you fly, fly away! Don’t regret
Touching down the cold whitish covers!
Only know: having randomly met
Ice and flame has become lonely lovers…
Snowflake
© Copyright: Костя Сергеев, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107032902593
Свидетельство о публикации №107032902593
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