Your face is engraved
On the walls of my memory
It is my fate, torturing slavery.
The deeds of my chivalry
Have not cured me, alas!
In vain I believed
You had gone to the past.
You are lying inside
Like a stone of a tomb…
No strength to move,
No soil to bloom.
Memory
© Copyright: Kelly, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111061600985
Свидетельство о публикации №111061600985
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