Forlorn and steep that cliff
Which pierces many skyes
May purify my thoughts
as in advise:
If I should fuse and meld with rocky ground
Or fly above and up
for treasure never found...
And sun will scorch the wax of my last wing
Preventing with a beam
a flaring sting -
I shall embrace this one
Because of you
My only beam
Unending ray
I blindly step into
In prominense of the star
© Copyright: Евгений Азгирь, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117061810230
Свидетельство о публикации №117061810230
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