By shredded lines the sense is born,
And its dimensions so inconstant,
The threads of life are being bound
He formulates free way of thinking
Your errors are behind your wisdom
Forfeited things have precious meaning
Those wings will fit your every doubt
Your planet’s utter inspirations
Unvarnished look before your eyes?
It makes me feel as cold as ice
Initial step is shifty one
Ignore a sign and turn to darkness
Pretend to sleep when touch is done
Without legs return to home.
The eyes are dimmed by light and dust
Frustration is the sweetest capture
Sensations knock the interruption
Depression gone, deceit is tiring
Your author keeps that on his mind
With him you have ability to write
Sence
© Copyright: Асемгуль Таспаева, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117042003171
Свидетельство о публикации №117042003171
Рецензии