Cold winds are tied with twisted routes
By silver needle, thread of frost
I'm chasing after what is lost
While snow is pouring into boots.
Where are you now and where is me?
Who knows what tomorrow holds
Your beautiness some one beholds
And everything's as meant to be.
The river will be bound in ice
And heavy whirling blizzard's chiling
I try to save this dying feeling
While getting cold and staying wise.
***
© Copyright: Артемий Авдюшкин, 2018
Свидетельство о публикации №118120309986
Свидетельство о публикации №118120309986
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