The blue star
Is glowing for you
Cold scorching rays
Bring an anguish for thou
And you are a reflection
Now frozen in time
An ideal of perfection
Of our tender creation
Which demands satisfaction
From those remained after thee
Who granted the grace
Of new mornings dew
For ever in our minds
Nights are kind to few
Though deaf and blind
They can listen to you
Grace
© Copyright: Мень Илья, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115042205903
Свидетельство о публикации №115042205903
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