Your heart is tied
By one thousand strings
To the voice of omnipotent reason;
It doesn't question what it brings
And is incapable of treason;
Your heart is ardent and alive,
But ever suffering suspicions,
And, like a pill, it swallows pride
To quit adjustment to collisions;
Your heart's a burden to itself
Forever wandering in darkness;
A vagabond, a lonely bell,
A distant echo of success;
And in the middle of the beat,
Between the pleasure and despair
Your heart decides to merely quit,
Dissolve in misty autumn air.
Your Heart is Tied
© Copyright: Ирина Стародубцева 3, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118092309107
Свидетельство о публикации №118092309107
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