Chasm guzzles the sky with a greedy drinks.
Fog calls again, covered with clouds milks.
Silence shouts, cries and groans sadly,
Thunder-storm is silent, selects a tears badly.
In the day the moon shines, illuminates the forest.
The sun fades away, wanders to be honest.
Night is full of flowers, smile for sky is ready,
The churchlet with crosses falls, being so unsteady.
Smoke on the horizon billows by snakes,
Flying off into the sky, sparkles as a lakes.
Stupidly look into the abyss, seeng truth of word.
Time, like a blade rotates with award.
The poetry of absurd
© Copyright: Алина Котлев, 2012
Свидетельство о публикации №112082708683
Свидетельство о публикации №112082708683
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