I don't believe it anymore.
It dies with every single day.
It was like having wings before,
But fortune takes the other way.
There is no ground under feet,
The reason is a lack of air...
But that's not happiness I feel...
Quiet desperation... Saying prayer...
My soul is scarred by own fears .
The days are gone, they pass us by...
And like these fallen autumn leaves,
My heart is drying, getting wild.
***
© Copyright: Татьяна Вандяк, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116102508953
Свидетельство о публикации №116102508953
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