It was evening
As I decided
I must wear clothes
Without any pockets.
Black cursed stones
Come into careless pockets,
Bringing disasters.
The sky was red,
My hand was transparent,
My heart was dark blue;
I've decided on a pocketless
Life
To avoid disasters.
And now
All that is left for me
Is to not eat any food,
As it may got within any time
The fatal number of black cursed stones
Of death.
Black stones
© Copyright: Женя Парсли, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112042100143
Свидетельство о публикации №112042100143
Рецензии