Tell,please,what we are looking for,
When going to the raise
And force habitually to adore
Our decreasing days?
New soul, New life, or maybe new
Uncontemplated thought?
Of course my beau ideal knew,
That why he illed and fought .
He crashed himself into the pieces
To be from nil the best .
He only who detested decrease
Of days against behest.
We come to fall and to excel
Until rang the death knell.
***
© Copyright: Кайла Ридинг, 2014
Свидетельство о публикации №114120507526
Свидетельство о публикации №114120507526
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