I need to see how your wings interweaved by bullets
And ask you then "love to be outside of the god?"
they flying to you and enrich air by tiers of fall
one voices chore...
besides the fear
look around
fall in ground
I need to take you into fire of genocide stove
And see that light will pray of help and sob
I meant to be one of sins of this world
In rain that gets free of storm
besides the fear
see onward
How your heart whips by rain
onward....
one voices chore...
© Copyright: Норз Энгельгард, 2008
Свидетельство о публикации №108031500290
Свидетельство о публикации №108031500290
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