Dark yellowish sky's pulsating in fever,
Shadows around're outlined with frost,
I wonder what fool's pulled this lever
And made me fall in love with a ghost.
You say real sanity doesn't exist.
Well, maybe that's why I'm happy to see you.
A pitch-black spirit is clutching my wrist,
Saying things that I don't want to be true.
There is no explanation for what I am feeling
And no reason for you to feel the same.
I hopelessly bang on this thick cold ceiling,
Unwilling to quit this pointless game.
Saturday
© Copyright: Катарина Кукушкина, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117110509578
Свидетельство о публикации №117110509578
Рецензии