& nbsp;Look, the last echo has burned out,
Touching the strings,obolev in the echoes of a forgotten spring,
And someone else, in the dark choking with laughter,
& nbsp;Broke the miracles like a pain that doesn't need words.
and suddenly stood in a series of forgotten legends
& nbsp;Heroes frozen in the dead glare of mirrors,
& nbsp;All in black.And somewhere there was a Blues about you.
but where am I? If only someone would tell me...
***
© Copyright: Юрий Николаевич Исаев, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120010207771
Свидетельство о публикации №120010207771
Рецензии