The gifts of love so often fade with time,
And even newly-born, they bring some sadness;
They are like some short-living wine:
Consum'd, enjoy'd - the rest is spilt in darkness.
The precious moments, full of warmth and grace,
Somehow lose their strength of being remember'd;
The passing time continues to erase
All beautiful and truly venerated.
When those are gone, that is the human end:
As memory is cracking and deceiving,
And one doesn't value a lover or a friend,
What else in life is worth its empty living?
That's how great and sad Elizabeth
Had met her dignified lonesome end.
01.08.2016
The gifts of love so often fade with time
© Copyright: Валерия Ливина, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117090705159
Свидетельство о публикации №117090705159
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