Shoulders…
whispers…
madness…
fires…
Fall into the blue sunset.
Liars make so many lies…
We want make in love regret.
Eyes,
mouths,
hairs -
flowers
Came to evening, to the end.
In the souls - great scours:
In the brains all pretend
As though thoughts is roses,
But these flowers will be dead.
Babies’ faces,
meadows…
Grazes
Broken like a broken hearts.
This world turned into pieces -
Single unit plowed to parts.
Lovers,
keepers,
little princess…
We all wrong because like pain
Built deception, grew to killers.
We just tried throw again,
But bogged down into weepers.
Passion,
skies,
graves,
rain.
Blue Sunset
© Copyright: Дарья Тальба, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117011511482
Свидетельство о публикации №117011511482
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