All around
Burn it, my star, burn out the last bond.
The mirrors at the end will say me "things are wrong",
The friend became foe broke down the last song.
The gaze asks to be silent, for very little bit,
Gaze on alien dreams to see no men, nor do it.
No thoughts about you, all life as axiom,
About the eternal, about circle moving idiom.
Свидетельство о публикации №118112805597