The night seems endless like a road running far to sinful song,
And I can hardly find a sleep to fall into.
My room is filled with heavy air left for good by thunder storm.
Deep silence falsely plays its tunes to listen to.
My mind wants morning to be here brining lots of holograms.
Those fussy holograms of sun and leaves in green.
So many paths the ceiling draws meaning oldest road maps
I'm slowly driving on my thoughts to land of dream.
Sleepless night
© Copyright: Maxx, 2011
Свидетельство о публикации №111083004801
Свидетельство о публикации №111083004801
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