Being neglected for too long
consumes you into lustful praying
and you're beginning to belong
to own realm of sinner's reign.
Being a dweller of this world,
at once you're king and you are peasant.
But virtues you had had are sold
to feed the hunger of your present.
The hunger, that you cannot sate,
it's magnified by every action.
You see the choice that you had made
can't bring you any satisfaction.
With every day it's getting worse -
despair fills your heart and veins
until they burst, releasing force,
that leaves behind no remains.
You've lost it all, you never won.
There's nothing you can reach or follow,
there is no sense in moving on.
You're moving, but your soul is hollow.
Hollow
© Copyright: Максим Обрывко, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116021010494
Свидетельство о публикации №116021010494
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