Empty streets and pale faces I live among
They live here their own lives I don't know how
Feeling frost on my finger-tips I caught a cold
Crossing roads without a fear I'm going home
And where I belong to something else
There I breathe without a strength
And meeting the dawn I'm walking alone
Soon I'll find the way to my home
Listening to the voices calling me from the depth
I plunge into myself as it lasts right till my death
Since that time I realised I'm searching for home
I doubt if it's dark or light and where it's gone
No matter when I don't care how
All I want is someone leads me out of darkness
Maybe my home is so hard to find but
There exists that place I belong to, I'm sure...
21.11.2004
The way home
© Copyright: Юлия Молдая, 2007
Свидетельство о публикации №107072601973
Свидетельство о публикации №107072601973
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