There's too much oxygen for me
And too much space for me alone.
I'll crush my ship and crush the dome,
But maybe there's a point to be.
All my transmitters are switched-on,
But apparates strangely behave.
I'm pressing button on and on,
I'm pressing button on and on
___________________________________
Now i'm standing on the crossroad
Among the comets flying my way,
All controlls are absolutely lost
And only Universe is listening to Mayday.
I hear the super-nova pulsing
Through the metal cover, through my hand,
But i don't want to go dissolving,
So i am floating in a purple mist of fate.
Ping the Galaxy
© Copyright: Ольга Бестужева, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115102203950
Свидетельство о публикации №115102203950
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