Caution

You'll cry a pond or the ocean,
but who will care?
The one and only, plucky motion
I should've dare.

It's really hard to recover
from the fever.
'In any case don't let it govern
the gravity lever!'
I'd been taught. It all ended
in conflagration.
Beside the grave knees were bended
in consolation.

I should've learnt: what's born
in flames and fireworks -
a deadly curse, poisoned thorn,
epitaph of forewords.

But noone careы, except, maybe,
hysteric loner,
who'd lost the key for the abbey
inside the manor
belonged to misery and tears,
steady dejection.

I'm glad to face only peers
in foes' reflection.
I'm glad to thank you for Nothing
which can't be bare,
for that thrown rocks which had roughen
mine soft nightmare.

I'm glad to say, lucky you,
I'll overcome this..
Although, you know, to tell the truth,
I hope, I won't miss
this perfect script in the clouds,
swing in the garden...
I want to say, at least, wanted...

I beg you pardon.

{
I love you.
Pardon.
}

18.03.2013
NikA