Never-ending flow of crows
Bringing clouds, croaking ill.
It entraps me, it surrounds
Making me to pay the bills.
Pay for debts and for the failures,
I’ve committed as a boy.
Pushing down and derailing,
Playing with me as a toy.
As an a army of bad clowns,
Quacking, laughing, making smiles.
I’m confused and I’m drowning,
Cause no more strength to be alive.
Never ending sea of crows,
I’m the one against their waves.
And theirs king wearing a crown,
Tells the things that makes heart aches.
He explains that I’m the last one,
Of the freely, big, white swans.
He says that I’m the favorite son,
If I’m alive till break of dawn.
Army of crows
© Copyright: Мурзин Алексей Николаевич, 2019
Свидетельство о публикации №119070901845
Свидетельство о публикации №119070901845
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