Shield my soul,
No need in oath,
From the mortals-
My sheer antipodes-
Your eyes feast on,
Crave for.
Carve it
Into your mind
As a flying sparkle
Through the rumble
Of zestful Life,
With trials
And errors enough,
Reluctant or rather inapt
To visualize
The looming demise.
Yet night and day
Living the Death-
In the only way
One can befriend
Art and Faith.
Caught and burnt
By two flames-
No difference ,
Though, apparent
Between Love and Torment.
My glass of wine
Keep full but a sip
For the time
Of festivities
I would miss;
While replenishing it,
Call to mind
Humor of mine,
Minor triumphs too
I wasn't alien to.
A flying sparkle
© Copyright: Ксения Желева, 2015
Свидетельство о публикации №115112208896
Свидетельство о публикации №115112208896
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