Cold pale skies
Washed away
Years off from your face
And you like those days
Standing cold
And alone
Full of skyborn dreams
Searching for the half of you
Winter tells
Foreign strangers eyes
They call back your cries
But did not stop thus
At your sight
Blizzard grows to fight
Grip your pillow tight
Dreams can't hurt you that
There is something wrong
To watch them go forever
And never take them home
Once for more
You are to escape
Your divinity
Does it mean betrayal
Grounded low
On the firmament
You will pay the rent
As your purity has fled
Look behind
Thousand worlds lean down
To the nebulous shrine
In oblivion
Loose the skies
Or drown in your heart
And become a part of those worlds apart
You can still drive home
Watching snowflakes melt away on their own
<2009>
The Wintertide Of Ghosts
© Copyright: Ардаллион, 2017
Свидетельство о публикации №117112506298
Свидетельство о публикации №117112506298
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