From the golden beach,
From the softest sand
Thrown lightly away
By somebody's hand.
It's my senseless life
Now tears away
Like a dancing stone
In the sternest waves.
One little suffering stone
Is looking for coast,
But never will see it
And never'll be home.
He wishes to be drawn
But tourtures are longer
Even miles are shorter
Than gradual dieing
He'll never be home
And he has to perish
He wishes to be drawn
But not to be carried
On the waves of the monster
Longer and longer...
...........................
To die is not scary
Loneliness dreadful
The ocean-monster can not be compared
To the depth of your eyes
Blue depth of your eyes
I wish to be drawn
But tortures are longer
ocean monster
© Copyright: Осень в Глазах, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107071301397
Свидетельство о публикации №107071301397
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