He sits up there, above the skies,
He sees that everything goes right,
He never misses anything,
Protecting world with stretched wings.
He watches over epochs streaming,
And never closes eyes for dreaming,
His gaze is calm, his breath is deep,
He’d never known what’s it – to weep.
He knows one day he will be freed:
Not any of the people’s creeds
Will help them when the Trial comes,
When foes and friends expose at once.
Till then, the silent watchman, he
Looks upon the peoples free,
And waits for them at last to guess
What is the answer – no or yes.
Beholder
© Copyright: Белая Маска, 2010
Свидетельство о публикации №110082404492
Свидетельство о публикации №110082404492
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