We agreed to meet on a glade.
I went on the silent wood.
In a hand I held a blade.
My mood was very good.
We met on our place.
I looked at your face.
It was pale, like ice.
It was a magnificent trice.
Don't die, I tell you: don't die.
Hold, grab life.
Don't die, I will not leave you.
Do not die!
I seized you for a throat
And looked at your eyes.
You didn't even resist.
And we couldn't coexist.
Don't die, I tell you: don't die.
Hold, grab life.
Don't die, I will not leave you.
Do not die!
You were dying in my knees,
I weren't understanding this.
Dark spread in my body.
I asked: "Help me, somebody".
Don't die, I tell you: don't die.
Hold, grab life.
Don't die, I will not leave you.
Do not die!
I'm dying too.
2014
*из альбома "Schicksal" музыкального проекта МорокМ vk.com/morokm
Don t die!
© Copyright: Никита Рудаков, 2016
Свидетельство о публикации №116111607029
Свидетельство о публикации №116111607029
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