Brushed out
In dust
Of my sunset
Craze-
Looking East,
Thinking West;
Surrounding
Maze
Getting thicker
And yellowing
Edges-
I would die
Not to see you
For ages,
Letting chemistry
Done
In blood
Seal the lips
Of your lying
God
Not for sake
Of my mortal
Pride,
But for fact
That you never
Tried
Lacklustre
© Copyright: Лиза Ройт, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114092307409
Свидетельство о публикации №114092307409
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