The sea is sticking out its tongue
And spitting out water.
With salt and stones, I'm getting stung,
I can't become waves' fodder,
And hence, I'm breaking through the sea,
Like it's a wall of stone.
Its coldness takes its fee from me.
I'm feeling left alone
And soon, I'll have to raise my hands
And go back to the shore,
To people, far, thus small as ants.
I can't go further more.
The Sea
© Copyright: Дмитрий Белянин, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118041407597
Свидетельство о публикации №118041407597
Рецензии
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