I stir the pot, stare at the mess...
Tranquility is not my kind:
Try to stay calm but more or less
I can’t be quiet when soul is wild.
The pressure of my rushing blood
Will never let me rest in chill.
My devilish part plays chess with God’s,
I guess they bet my wishes and will.
I thought: “The loneliness is my cross,
No one is hurt by being mismatched”
But once, I’ve heard your tender voice
And I’ve got lost when heart was touched.
I saw my cosmos in your heart,
I felt like I could breathe and fly,
I hoped it was a brand new start...
But stirred the pot to burn sweet lie.
Stir
© Copyright: Юлия Мартынцева Март, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118031611264
Свидетельство о публикации №118031611264
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