Thirteen years ago,
When the lilac bloomed,
Mist covered the beautiful garden,
And night replaced day
Leaves rustled over the river,
Mosquitoes flew,
And in the heart of the battle raged
On the eve of war.
Thirteen years ago
The attack lasted all night.
Passed without shooting ranges and soldiers,
But there is no one to help.
Fight for life or for death?
The answer is not to find.
That night I let it burn,
And burn the hell out of bridges.
Fighting with yourself is also a fight, isn't it?
That night the judgment was done.
Then I became myself.
Filling his vessel.
Thirteen years ago,
When the lilac bloomed.
The one who was hit by a shell
And the day was coming.
Fighting with yourself is also a fight
© Copyright: Игорь Васильевич Шестаков, 2020
Свидетельство о публикации №120010301665
Свидетельство о публикации №120010301665
Рецензии